


Different For Us

by BeginToFray



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Prison, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2019-11-07 12:56:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 69,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17960966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeginToFray/pseuds/BeginToFray
Summary: AU: Eve is a forensic psychologist tasked with assessing a certain somebody who has been incarcerated for some time following a grisly crime...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OK gang, so here's the thing... This idea has been bouncing about in my brain for a couple of months now. I have written the first two chapters and the final chapter, the middle is... as yet unknown. There doesn't seem to be a massive amount of AUs for these guys, so I don't know if there is an audience for this or not. Because of that, I am giving you chapter one, and then, if you please, you could tell me if this story is something you want, or whether I should keep it in my head!
> 
> If you have read my series, then cool, thank-you! I should say now though, that this one would be different to that, less fluffy, a bit darker, but with the same humour. I hope. 
> 
> Their ages have been altered, some of their traits have been switched, their backstories are definitely different, but their hearts beat the same. Here goes...

It was one of those scarce blue-sky days in Britain. Late Spring, and a break in the rain had briefly banished the clouds, revealing the blue beyond. But Eve was not benefitting from it. Everything about the building she was currently encased within was grey. Or a variant of grey. The internal walls were an aged magnolia at the very best, a clinical stark white if they had been more recently decorated. It was certainly not Eve’s favourite place to be. She tried her hardest to not be here very often, far preferring the location-based aspect of her work. She liked visiting her clients in situ – not that there was much of a choice for them. And yes, the colours in those places were hardly more imaginative than this, but the characters were far more stimulating. Today, however, was not a day for clients; it was a day to visit the office, to submit paperwork and collect still more of the same.

‘Clients’ was perhaps not the best word for the people Eve worked most closely with, but ‘patients’ never seemed to suit either. Eve’s job was no longer to treat these people, though that had been her responsibility for years. Now, her role was to assess them, to dig deep and decide whether or not they had safely reformed. Forensic psychology. That’s what they called it. It made it sound as though Eve poked around the grey matter of those already on the slab, wearing one of those awful white overalls and clinical blue gloves. But that wasn’t it at all. Eve wore smart casual attire and comfortable shoes, no gloves. She didn’t examine the dead, but the living. Not the expired bodies of those already gone, but the inner workings of some of the most interesting individuals that made up the human race. Well, in Eve’s opinion anyway.  
  
Eve had pushed open the heavy glass door and strode through the unusually empty reception room, down a corridor and into a side office; she’d dropped her shoulder and allowed her leather satchel to hit the surface of an unoccupied desk heavily. She sighed and pulled out the chair, turning her attention to an in-tray on the desk that was technically hers but that she rarely visited for more than a cursory half hour a week. The usual papers had been stacked for her perusal. Why couldn’t these people just email her?

There were conditions of parole from the court in regards to a client for whom she had recently secured freedom, a statement of suggested further consultation for a client who had not been so ready, notes detailing upcoming changes to psychological assessment methods permissible in assault cases, a thank-you letter from the family of a client. Eve rifled through them, filing the first three into her bag for closer inspection at home, and putting the letter to one side for recycling, before thinking better of it. It contained personal details. She had better shred that one instead. She couldn’t keep the numerous gratitudes that she received, so she didn’t keep any. And besides, she didn’t do her job for the letters of appreciation, she did it because it was her job; she was good at it, and she was paid well for it.  
  
“Carolyn wants to see you.”  
  
A face had popped around the door of Eve’s office, though there had been no knock. Eve groaned and let her head hang until her chin met her chest. The face at the door issued a chuckle.  
  
“Right?” Came the voice, evidently relating to Eve’s displeasure at the summons.  
  
“When?” Eve asked through gritted teeth.  
  
“Um… pretty sure she said, ‘Tell Eve to get her arse into my office the minute it appears in the building’.”  
  
“She did not.”  
  
“No. She didn’t. But ASAP was the general suggestion.”  
  
Eve sighed once more.  
  
“OK. Thanks Elena.”  
  
“No worries.” Elena replied and began to retreat out of the doorway, “Oh, and congrats on that flasher case. It’s good to know you’re helping to keep the creeps off the streets.” Elena shot her a wink.  
  
“Just doing my bit.” Eve drawled, fastening the catches on her satchel.  
  
“Who gets off on getting their knob out on busses anyway?” Elena mumbles.  
  
“Exhibitionism is typically a trait of men who experienced neglect or abuse at a young age, those with a history of sexual preoccupation in adolescence. And in some cases it can be symptomatic of paedophilic tendencies.” Eve answered as though reciting from a textbook.  
  
“Right.” Elena replied, elongating the word with raised eyebrows. “Well, have fun with the boss!”  
  
Eve looked up and glared at Elena as she closed the office door.  
  
  
  
Carolyn’s office was the only one in the building that was bigger than Eve’s. It was one of the rooms that was painted in bland magnolia and on her desk resided an orchid. White. Of course. It seemed to always be in flower, a fact so unlikely that Eve once gave in to the temptation to pinch one of its waxy leaves between her fingers, expecting to feel plastic. It was real, and the surprise must have shown on Eve’s face if Carolyn’s arched eyebrow was anything to go by.  
  
The orchid was still there, and still in flower.  
  
“Eve.” Carolyn said, looking up from her computer screen and flicking her glasses from the end of her nose, letting their chain catch them. She blinked owlishly across the room as Eve entered.  
  
“You’re here. Good. Sit.” She added, gesturing at the chair opposite her. Eve sat.  
  
“What can I do for you Carolyn?” Eve asked tiredly.  
  
“All business. As always.” Carolyn said with an amused laugh, “I like it.”  
  
Eve didn’t reply, just continued to look at Carolyn expectantly.  
  
“Right. Right.” Carolyn said, snatching up a pile of papers from her desk and rifling through it for a moment, squinting and then slipping her glasses back on. “New case for you. Or client, whatever you want to call it.”  
  
“I have a pretty big caseload at the moment.” Eve cut in. And she was telling the truth.  
  
“You just got rid of that bus man. He’s out of your hair and off to a treatment facility, so…” Carolyn mumbled, still searching through her paperwork.  
  
“Yes, and I have about seven other—” Eve started.  
  
“Ah. Here it is.” Carolyn exclaimed, perusing a particular file and then passing it to Eve. “Something a bit different, you’ll find.”  
  
Eve took the file with a sigh and examined it briefly.  
  
“This is a young offender.” She said noting the facility listed as the address. She looked up at Carolyn as though she had made a mistake.  
  
“16 to 25s.” Carolyn nodded.  
  
“I don’t work with young offenders.” Eve said, passing the file back to Carolyn.  
  
“Well, now you do. It was Rebecca’s case, but she’s… you know…” Carolyn waved her hands around her stomach vaguely.  
  
“On maternity leave.” Eve supplied, “I know. But, I still don’t work with young offenders.” Eve said resolutely. Truth be told, she was trained to work with young people and had, but not for years now.  
  
“She’s 23. So she’s hardly a child. And nobody else will do it. She nearly drove Rebecca to early labour. Had her in tears more than once. Useless woman.” Carolyn said, her shoulders slumping.  
  
“You make it sound so tempting.” Eve replied sarcastically. God, Rebecca is useless though. Eve felt for the woman’s child and it wasn’t even born yet.  
  
“She’s up for parole in…” Carolyn read over the file once more, “Five months, and she’s highly unlikely to get it. Just take her on for that time. I’ll let you give two of your others to Frank.” Carolyn bargained.  
  
“Better…” Eve said, leaving a pause to let Carolyn know she was waiting for more.  
  
“Says here she has psychopathic tendencies.” Carolyn said with a smirk and eyed Eve knowingly as she waved the file before Eve’s eyes as though temping a dog with a bone.  
  
Eve considered her options.  
  
“Fine.” She relented. “But Frank is having the cat strangler and the serial pooper.” She said pointedly.  
  
“Pleasure doing business with you.” Said Carolyn, returning the file to Eve’s outstretched hand.  
  
“Whatever.” Eve muttered, standing from the chair.  
  
“Say hello to that husband of yours!” Carolyn called as Eve left the room.  
  
One day Carolyn’s job would probably be Eve’s, but for now, Carolyn remained her only superior. That didn’t stop Eve from putting up a fight when she wanted to though, and it had become clear early on in their working relationship that Carolyn valued Eve’s talents as head forensic psychologist enough to overlook her propensity for backchat. At this stage, they understood each other pretty well. Eve had progressed quickly through her career. Not many made it to her position by the age of 38. And far fewer women than men.  
  
Eve returned to her own office and thought for a moment. She could sit down and go through her paperwork, examine this new file with a fine-toothed comb and make some preliminary notes. But she could also do that at home. It was already gone four in the afternoon. Eve glanced at the three figures in a framed photo on her desk. It was the only personal touch to the office, and truth be known, she put it there as an afterthought. If she left now she could maybe take Leo out for ice cream and then do her work later when he had gone to bed.  
  
Eve nodded to nobody but herself and retrieved her beige mac coat from the back of her chair and shrugged it on. She switched off her desk lamp and slung her bag over her shoulder, picking up her briefcase from the floor and heading out the door.  
  
“Leaving us so soon?” Elena called as she caught sight of Eve strolling past her desk in reception. “That was, what? Nearly a whole thirty minutes at your desk?”  
  
“Oh, shut up.” Eve threw good-humouredly over her shoulder.  
  
“Drinks soon?” Elena shouted back.  
  
“God yes! I’ll text you.” Eve replied as she shoved her way out of the main door and into the small car park outside.  
  
“You better!” Elena yelled, leaning forward on the desk so Eve could hear her just before the front door was sealed shut once more.

  
  
  
Leaving the office hadn’t been the best idea after all, Eve decided as she sat in traffic for the twenty-sixth stationary minute. Driving in London also wasn’t the best idea. Eve, perhaps, was good at bad ideas. When she eventually got home to her four storey town house it was gone five p.m. Eve slung her bag on the hall seat and kicked off her shoes, before placing them neatly on a rack with the others. She was constantly reminding herself to do the things she demanded her son do too. It was only fair.  
  
“Hello?” Eve called into the silent belly of the house. There was no response.  
  
“Leo?” She tried again, still nothing, “Niko?”  
  
She didn’t know why she bothered checking really, if Leo were home then the house would certainly not be silent. And if Leo wasn’t at home, then neither was Niko.  
  
Eve made her way into the large open-plan kitchen and bee-lined for the kettle. What she really wanted was a glass of red wine, but she was making a concerted effort not to drink in the week. It was tough. She flicked on the kettle and then stepped over to the fridge, her eyes lingering on the manically scribbled colourful pictures of rockets and horses stuck with magnets to the door. There was something new stuck there as well, a note.  
  
_Eve,_  
  
We’ve gone to the Ping-Pong club for a few games.  
  
Dinner’s in the oven, just turn it to 180.  
  
N + L  
  
Oh. That was that then. Nobody was going for ice cream this evening.

Sometimes it felt as though the rest of her family was such a boys’ club. The kettle boiled behind Eve and she abandoned her search for milk in the fridge, and decided on a liquorice herbal tea instead, chucking a teabag into her mug – the one with self-portrait line drawings of Leo’s year two class on it – and poured in the boiling water. There was a slight banging noise at the back door and then a sleek body twined itself about Eve’s legs.  
  
“Hey Boots. Just us girls again,” Eve spoke softly to the cat at her feet. The cat offered a placating mewl in response.  
  
“Oh, you don’t care really. You just want dinner.” Eve chastised with a smile.  
  
The cat mewled again. She was a mostly black cat, small in size, with a flash of white on her chin and four perfectly symmetrical white paws. Luckily, these markings allowed friends and visitors to assume that those little white feet were the cause of the cat’s name. Eve was grateful she didn’t have to explain that the cat’s full title was ‘Pussy Boots’, a name decided upon by Leo in a period of deep devotion to the Puss in Boots character in _Shrek 2_. That was three years ago, and Leo’s imagination when it came to the name was as underdeveloped as his speaking ability. Thus, ‘Pussy Boots’. Niko and Eve had howled with laughter after putting Leo to bed that night, and then promptly decided to refer to the cat as simply ‘Boots’.  
  
Eve retrieved Boots’ bowl from the floor by the backdoor and replenished it with biscuits. Quick as a flash, Boots was done with her affectionate moment and the kitchen was filled with the sound of her crunching biscuits and pushing them about her bowl.  
  
Eve rolled her head from one shoulder to the other in an attempt to relieve some of the tension in her neck. It was almost always there these days. She twisted the oven dial to 180 and then settled herself at the large, scrubbed oak, kitchen table. She threw on her black-rimmed glasses and spread her newly acquired case file in front of her, blowing some of the steam from her tea.  
  
Skim reading the first page, Eve noted the location of this client. She had been correct earlier, it was a young offenders institution, not the highest of security but still home to some rather violent individuals. It would be a forty-minute drive for each visit, minimum, longer at rush hour. Carolyn had been nearly correct with the age. The client was _almost_ twenty-three.  
  
_Oksana Astankova_. Eve read. Unusual name. It sounded Russian, though the case file offered no confirmation of that. It would be unusual, but not unheard of. There were plenty of non-native inmates at adult institutions but the percentage decreased in younger offenders. The case file was flimsy at best, offering very little personal information beyond the name, location and birthdate of the client. There was a photo on the second page. A mugshot. And it showed a young face, fifteen at the most, with flat, lifeless eyes. Often they looked lost, Eve mused, when they were young and suddenly incarcerated, but not this one. This one seemed disinterested in the situation she had found herself in, resigned to her fate. Cold. Without remorse. Thought perhaps Eve was reading too much into the poor quality photograph.  
  
Eve took a sip of her tea and turned the page. Here was the box that detailed the initial crime.  
  
Boots chose this moment to leap nimbly onto Eve’s lap and rotate once before settling herself, purring softly and pawing at Eve’s thigh, catching her claws every so often in the fabric of Eve’s trousers. Eve stroked the cat idly as she read through the report.  
  
The incident had happened just under eight years ago. It had involved the individual’s stepfather – which potentially explained the Russian sounding name – and…  
  
Eve only just managed to avoid choking on her tea  
  
The victim was discovered deceased at the family home. Cause of death was ruled as severe blood loss, due to mutilation. Eve’s client had mutilated her foster father. She had mutilated his genitals and then she had…

Well, Carolyn had said this was something a bit different.  
  
“Jesus.” Eve breathed.

Eve had to read the file again to be sure, but the facts were the same on the second reading. This was extremely unusual behaviour. Eve had heard of similar case studies, but very few of them, and she had never experienced anyone with such tendencies in her own work. In fact, she had always suspected that those case studies were fabricated for shock factor or to push psych students to the limits of their understanding. Yeah, no wonder Carolyn said that winning parole for this one would be highly unlikely. Highly unlikely was putting it mildly. This was a lost cause.

Why had this girl not been Eve’s from the start? The idea of Rebecca poking about in this case was ridiculous. It was far above her capabilities. Even with the less than slim chance of parole, this kind of thing was Eve’s dream, and likely her nightmare too if the look in Oksana Astankova’s eyes was anything to go by.  
  
The tension in Eve’s neck felt as though it had increased exponentially since she sat down at the table. Sure, she had managed to chuck a couple of her more annoying clients at Frank, and he certainly deserved that, the dick swab. And what had she got in return? Something fascinating, without a doubt. But Eve suspected this Oksana Astankova must be a difficult customer, likely to give Eve more than one headache. What an intriguing character though. That would just have to outweigh the trouble Eve was bound to be faced with. It was only for five months. At the end of five months, they would lose their appeal for parole and Eve would be free of the hassle, but with added great insight into another complicated mind.  
  
Well, Eve did specialise in psychopathy and this, at a glance, was ticking those vital boxes.  
  
Eve heard keys in the front door lock and slammed the cardboard file cover shut, placing her mug over it as though to keep the vivid imagery at bay.  
  
“We’re back!” came a high-pitched yell from the hallway, closely followed by noisy footsteps racing towards the kitchen.  
  
“Hello sweetheart,” Eve smiled as a blur of six year old entered the room.  
  
“I won three games and Tata only won one!” Leo cackled, bounding over to Eve and causing Boots to shoot out of the way, her claws digging in painfully as she propelled herself from Eve’s lap. The cat was swiftly replaced by Leo, who almost knocked the air from Eve’s lungs as he flung himself into her arms.  
  
“Well, you are the Ping-Pong champion.” Eve nodded in mock reverence, smoothing a hand over her son’s head.  
  
“No!” Leo said, pulling back and shaking his head dramatically. “ _All time_ champion!” he corrected vehemently.  
  
“Of course.” Eve agreed, “All time Ping-Pong champion. My mistake.”  
  
Leo nodded and puffed his chest out proudly as Niko entered the room with a bag of shopping.  
  
“Good day?” He asked, leaning down to kiss the top of Eve’s head, his prickly moustache catching on a few strands of Eve’s hair as he straightened up again.  
  
“Yeah.” Eve replied, “Well. An interesting day.” She amended, her eyes flitting to the copper coloured pan set that hung on a rack above the kitchen island. Niko made a disinterested hum in response and asked no further questions as he pulled open the door to the oven and surveyed the cooking contents with a nod.

Eve wrapped her arms around her son’s waist as he leant back precariously in her lap and twisted one finger – one slightly sticky finger – into her hair, chatting animatedly at her about his latest sporting victory. Eve was listening, of course she was listening, but her gaze drifted over her son’s shoulder to settle on the closed case file on the kitchen table.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems there is an appetite for this story, which I am thrilled about as I really want to write it. Thank-you for all your comments on the first chapter and thank-you for getting on board with this AU. I hope I can do it justice for you all!
> 
> So, without further ado... Enter Oksana.

Eight years. That’s how long it had been. Sometimes when she slept, Oksana still felt the viscosity of his blood on her hands, still smelled the copper-y scent of it filling her nostrils, still felt the buzz of satisfaction that his ebbing life force had instilled in her. The mornings following those dreams were the ones in which she awoke smiling. She kept that to herself though. She wasn’t stupid.

Psychopathic tendencies. That’s what they said she had. A lack of empathy, a swollen ego, an absence of conscience and guilt. That was the yardstick against which they measured her. Not all psychopaths were murderers, Oksana knew that, but many murderers were psychopaths. And she was, after all, a murderer by her own admission. Not that she could have ever denied it. Not that she would ever have wanted to.

But she had killed only once. That is what they didn’t understand. She had killed once and for good reason. The rest of it? Well, that was just how she was raised.  
  
Oksana’s father had taught her from as far back as she could remember that Astankovas had no equals. The size of her ego, therefore, was cultivated and appropriately vast. And what need did she have for a conscience? The decisions she made were invariably correct, their outcomes were inevitable and sometimes there are casualties of choices. That is hardly Oksana’s fault. The same goes for guilt. Why would Oksana feel guilty over the death of that man? He had deserved it. The punishment fit the crime. The world was a better place without him in it. There was no room for guilt. Oksana should be rewarded, not caged.

And as for empathy, well, Oksana wasn’t sure why they thought she lacked it. She was capable of empathy, when she cared enough. And she _had_ cared enough. It had landed her here. They said she had no empathy, but she had shown it, and they had punished it.

Now, eight years on, and here she remains. In a ten-foot square cell, with a bunk so slim she used to frequently roll off it in the night. In those early days, many of her bruises were the result of hitting the concrete floor in the middle of the night. Now she had learnt to sleep motionlessly. Now her bruises were solely the result of interactions with other inmates. Not that she shared her cell anymore. And sometimes bruises were the least of her worries. Sometimes she had oozing wounds just below her ribs.

Oksana hissed threateningly and recoiled. The gloved hands retracted instantly.

“Sorry.” The medic uttered apologetically.

“I don’t think you are. I think you enjoy this.” Oksana said menacingly.

“I don’t!” The young man insisted. “But it needs antiseptic, you don’t want it getting infected.”

“Don’t I? If it was infected I could go to the hospital bay. Have you _seen_ the nurse?” Oksana drawled, pushing her lips forward in a pout at end of her sentence.

“Uh… I…” the medic stammered.

“I would far rather have her hands on my body than your sweaty paws.” Oksana pointed out disdainfully.

The medic ignored that, not sure how to react to it, but now feeling even more of a duty to disinfect the woman’s wound and save the nurse the hassle of submitting a harassment complaint should this inmate end up in her care.

“Nearly done.” He murmured, “This will sting again,”

Oksana braced herself, her stomach muscles tensing visibly before the cotton swap swiped one last time at the angry wound. And it did sting. It was a sting she knew well by now, but still its smarting was no easier to bear.

“Fuck!” Oksana barked, shoving roughly at the shoulder of the medic, who stumbled to his feet and took a step out of her reach.

“OK!” He relented, “It’s done.”

“You get off on this, don’t you? Inflicting pain on defenceless inmates?” Oksana seethed.

“No.” The medic shook his head emphatically. If he were a braver man he would point out that she was hardly defenceless. As it was he could still feel the remnants of her shove on his shoulder.

“I bet you go home and tug one off to thoughts of us writhing in pain. Hmm?” Oksana said, her voice now calm. “I bet it gets you all hot and bothered and hard, doesn’t it?”

“Of course not!”

“It’s sick. You should be locked up.” Oksana said decisively, though she smirked inwardly at her own little ironic joke.

Only one person in this room was locked up. And it wasn’t the meek little medic who probably couldn’t get it up if he wanted to.

“Do you know what I’m in for?” Oksana asked curiously, her gaze darting purposefully to the medic’s crotch.

“I don’t ask.” He admitted. “It’s not relevant to me.”

“How gallant.” Oksana drawled. “You should ask about me. It will keep you up at night.” She promised.

The medic cleared his throat.

“I need to bandage it now.” He said quietly.

Oksana leaned back on the table where she was seated, her legs hanging over the edge. She stretched out her torso, quashing the wince at the pain that the stretch caused, and pushing her bra-clad breasts out purposefully. Prison issue bras were far from alluring, but that was not the point.

“Be my guest.” She said smoothly, smirking suggestively at the cowering medic.

The medic blinked rapidly a few times. His eyes had been drawn to the inmate’s chest, as was obviously her intention, but he averted them as quickly as possible. Not quickly enough though as a pleased chuckle sounded from the table.

“Pervert.” Oksana said simply.

The medic shook his head and busied himself preparing the bandage before making his way to the table. This was by far his most trying consultation today. He bent over towards the inmate’s wound and peeled the back off an adhesive patch before smoothing it as gently as possible over the raw-looking wound. It really was remarkable what these women could turn into weapons. They were very resourceful when they had to be. Resourceful and vicious.

Oksana shifted on the table, moving her face towards the medic’s ear and breathing heavily into it as he now wrapped a bandage securely around her ribs. Just as he was fixing the bandage in place, Oksana opened her mouth and then bit at the air, clacking her teeth together next to the medic’s ear and sending him hurtling away from her. Oksana hooted with laughter just as the door to the consultation room opened.

“Astankova,” came a warning voice from the doorway, “Having fun as usual, I see.”

“The time of my life.” Oksana intoned.

“And Kenny, she’s been behaving for you, I trust?”

Oksana glanced over at the medic’s – Kenny’s – pale face and raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to tell on her.

“Yep.” Kenny said, “Fine. Good as gold. Very well behaved.”

Oksana smiled triumphantly.

“I don’t believe that for a minute.” The newcomer laughed.

Oksana’s face dropped into a scowl.

“I am always a good girl.” Oksana insisted with a pout. “You know that by now, Mr Pargrave.”

“Oh, sure. We only have good girls in this prison.” Mr Pargrave replied irreverently, before continuing, “I’ll take her off your hands now, Kenny. Thanks for patching her up.”

“No problem, Mr Pargrave. Happy to do it.” Kenny replied with a smile.

Oksana rolled her eyes and mimicked his sentiments under her breath to which Mr Pargrave raised his eyebrows warningly.

Oksana sighed and dragged her prison issue grey sweater back down to cover her torso and hopped off the table. The impact of her boots hitting the floor sent a jolt of pain through her wound and Oksana struggled to keep her expression free of it.

“That will need changing daily.” Kenny said, gesturing at Oksana’s ribs.

“So you want to see me again, hmm?” Oksana said with a smirk, “I’d give you my number, but we’re not allowed phones in here.” She added in a conspiratorial whisper.

Mr Pargrave shook his head with an amused smile and held his arm out for Oksana.

“Come on you, let’s find someone else for you to harass for a while.” He said before putting his arm around Oksana’s shoulders and urging her out of the room ahead of him.

“Thanks Kenny, if I could give you a bonus for working with her, I would.” Mr Pargrave said quietly before closing the door behind himself and Oksana.

Kenny smiled until the door was closed and he was alone in the consultation room, then he collapsed into his wheeled office chair and ran his hands through his hair, heaving a sigh of relief.

 

 

In the corridor, Mr Pargrave and Oksana made their way past doors to other consultation rooms and offices.

“How did you piss her off this time, then?” Mr Pargrave asked.

“I didn’t! I was very polite.” Oksana said feigning hurt at the accusation.

“Politeness rarely lands me with a sharpened spoon in my side.” He replied, “You must need to work on your manners, Astankova.”

“It is not my fault. She wanted to spend a bit of intimate time with me and I told her she was too big and unattractive. I cannot help it if my rejection angered her.” Oksana said innocently.

“And what have we said you should do about these propositions?” Mr Pargrave prompted.

“Tell a teacher?” Oksana suggested mockingly.

“We call them wardens here.” Came the wry response, “You’re too old for school now, I’m afraid.”

Oksana opened her mouth in mock horror.

“You are calling me old? You should never call a lady old.” Oksana said in outrage.

“And _you_ should never call one fat if you want to avoid trips to the medic.” Mr Pargrave replied, pushing open the door to his office and stepping aside. “In.” He directed, pointing into the room.

“Why? Are you not taking me to my cell?” Oksana asked suspiciously.

“We need to have a chat first.” Mr Pargrave said.

“OK…” Oksana let out slowly and stepped into the office, with a cautious glance over her shoulder as she did so.

She took a seat one side of the large desk, this time not hiding the wince as the movement jostled her injury. Mr Pargrave sat down the other side.

Oksana braved the shooting pain in her side to lift her booted feet onto the desk in front of her and eyed the man opposite expectantly for a moment. For his part, Mr Pargreave stared pointedly at the soles of Oksana’s boots and then looked her dead in the eye. Oksana allowed her feet to slip from the desk and hit the ground with two resounding thuds. Her side throbbed hotly.

“You have an appointment tomorrow.” Mr Pargrave said.

“Yes, to change my bandage.” Oksana replied as though his observation had been an obvious one.

“No, with the psychologist.” Came the reply.

Oksana slumped in her chair and let her head drop backwards.

“I thought she gave up.” Oksana whined. “She cried again last time. Did they tell you?” she added with a note of pride.

“Despite your best efforts, you have another appointment.” Mr Pargrave said with a smile. “As it happens, you have a parole review in five months and that warrants statements from psychologists as to whether or not you are suitable for release.”

Oksana remained silent for a moment. She hadn’t been expecting that.

“They say I am a psychopath.” She said quietly at last.

“They do.” Mr Pargrave nodded. It was no secret.

“Do you think I am?” She asked.

“I am not a psychologist.” He replied.

“I didn’t ask if you were a psychologist. I asked if you think I am a psychopath!” She exclaimed angrily.

“If you’re going to become agitated then I will return you to your cell.” Mr Pargrave said evenly. Others tended to flinch when they caught a flash of fire in the eyes of Oksana Astankova, but not this man.

“What do I have to do?” Oksana asked with a sigh.

“Meet with the psychologist and answer the questions honestly. That’s all you can do.” He replied, bending down to open a lower drawer in his desk.

Oksana watched him rummage around a while and chewed the skin next to her thumb thoughtfully.

“Ah.” Mr Pargrave exclaimed, straightening up, “Here you go.”

He handed her a thin book, _White Nights_ by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Oksana eyed the cover and then turned the book in her hands.

“This will not last me long.” She pointed out. It was certainly far shorter than the other works of Dostoyevsky’s that she had read.

“I’ll have it back then.” Mr Pargrave replied, holding his hand out for the book.

Oksana clutched it into her chest.

“No. It is good. I will read it.” She replied quickly before adding more softly, “Thank-you.”

“You’re welcome. Behave for the psychologist tomorrow?” He asked hopefully.

Oksana shrugged.

“I do not like her.”

“I didn’t ask if you liked her. I asked you to behave.” Mr Pargrave replied with a knowing smile.

“Touché.” Oksana mumbled.

  

 

Back in her cell a little while later, Oksana lay flat on her back on the top bunk, her eyes wide and staring, focused on the ceiling above her. It was made up of 24 large tiles. Not ceramic tiles, but a kind of strengthened polystyrene. She had glowered at those tiles for years. One of them bore the imprint of her fist, smaller then than it is now. Another had a watermark that had a remarkable resemblance to a rabbit if Oksana laid her head in the right position.

The bunk below Oksana was no longer occupied. Oksana had hauled its mattress onto the top bunk and laid it underneath her own. Though it was equally as thin, when the two mattresses were stacked their thickness was far closer to that of the mattress on the last bed she had before she was incarcerated. Nowhere near the comfort of her childhood bed though. From time to time Oksana wondered what had become of her childhood home. Who lived there now? Had one of her father’s men taken it over? She hoped not. She would rather see her old home burn.

So she had yet another trip to the psychologist scheduled for the next day. Oksana was tired of those. They agitated her. She didn’t know what they wanted from her. Yes, she killed a man. No, she wasn’t sorry. What other questions could possibly be necessary?

And now they want to consider her for parole?

They would never allow it. Of the countless assessments Oksana had undergone in her eight years in institutions, none of the so-called professionals had submitted anything positive about her. And her current psychologist was weak. An idiot. She asked rude questions and she cried easily.

Oksana despised every psychologist she met, purely on principle. They asked their questions and they attempted to pick her apart, to unravel her and figure her out. It was insulting and Oksana wouldn’t stand for it. These bumbling quacks think that they can read her mind but not one of them has come close yet. Oksana knows what to keep buried. Not that it matters really. No one would be letting her out, not after what she did. Another meeting would merely be another waste of time. Though time, Oksana supposed, was exactly what she had.

She shifted onto her elbows, forgetting momentarily about the gash in her side. The searing pain reminded her though, and she clenched her teeth, exhaling harshly through her teeth. She struggled to an upright position and edged towards the ladder. Normally, she didn’t use the ladder. Normally, she swung herself over the edge of her top bunk and landed cat-like on the ground. Sometimes she used those upper bars for pull-ups. Not today though, and not for a while yet it seemed. So she lowered herself hesitantly to the ground and then assessed the contents of the lower bunk. Her books.

Eight years ago, once the reality of her new situation had sunk in Oksana had been fifteen and furious. Day in, day out, furious. She could barely see the sky. She couldn’t feel the breeze or the rain on her skin. Her legs longed to run and yet there was nowhere to go. She clashed with wardens and fellow inmates. She fought, got blood under her nails and clumps of hair in her hands. Her heart had raced and her had eyes stung and she felt as though she would combust, burst into flames or explode in a spatter of crimson flesh on the white walls.

But she hadn’t.

The days had passed into weeks, into months and then to years. And Oksana hadn’t expired. Gradually she had found ways to occupy her days and her mind. When she was allowed into the yard, she ran on the spot. In her cell at night, she would do push-ups and sit-ups. She discovered the library and she read their meagre selection of Russian literature. And when she did so, she wept for the world she had been wrenched from, but only after lights out, and so silently that even the rabbit on the ceiling would deny having seen her cry. Astankovas don’t cry. She had found language books and taught herself French. She was fluent now, for all the good it would ever be. Then, she had discovered sex. Sex and all its many uses. And like everything else she turned her hand to, Oksana practiced until she was exceptionally good at it. Commodities were few and far between in prison so Oksana learned to work with what she had.

And now they wanted to consider her for parole. They wanted her to talk to the stupid, fat psychologist again. Oksana could handle that. She could maybe even enjoy it if she put her mind to it. People made excellent playthings after all; that was another lesson that prison had taught her.

Oksana selected her new book from the make shift shelf she had formed along the back edge of the lower bunk and grabbed the apple that Mr Pargrave had offered her. She clambered haltingly back up onto her bunk and lay down. The book was a slim one and wouldn’t last her long at all, but perhaps for a short time it would take her home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank-you to em2205 for patiently answering all my questions about this forensic psychology thing and being endlessly helpful and informative :)

The tone of the alarm on Eve’s phone always began gently but never took long to escalate into an incessant jangling sound near to her head. Behind her, she heard a heaving groan from Niko and felt the bed shift as he rolled yet further from her. Eve slipped a hand out from beneath the duvet and snatched her phone, making several attempts to slide the on-screen switch across and effectively turn off the infernal noise.

06.15, time to start the day. It was going to be a day with an unusual amount of pressure to it too, as it brought with it the first appointment with her new case. There was, Eve was able to admit to herself, a certain level of intrigue there. Who was the woman that could commit such a crime at the tender age of 15? What was Eve like when she was 15? Certainly not somebody able to enact a mutilation on an adult male, that much she could say without a doubt. This morning called for a run, something to relieve the tension before it worsened.

Eve had first started running when Leo was about 18 months old. Those 18 months had not been easy for Eve and it was only after a friend suggested she tried running that things began to turn around. For a while, nothing had been purely about Eve. Suddenly she had found herself with a life dependent on her. Her time was not her own, her body was not her own, even her relationship was not her own any more. Eve had felt unable to take more than six months off from work without jeopardising her position and so she had been torn between her career, which she loved, and the guilt at leaving her son. Now, when she looked back, that guilt was easier to define. It was not guilt for leaving her son. It was guilt that she felt so able to do so, when all the other new mothers on mumsnet.com were distraught over spending a whole eight hours without their baby.

But Eve was the main earner in the family. Niko’s paintings sold for a fair amount, when they actually sold, but Eve provided a stable, respectable income and so their roles had become set in stone. Eve would work while Niko cared for their child. It sounded simple, but it had not been without its issues. Niko had found himself taking on a role he fitted surprisingly well, and Eve found herself… relieved to be back in her job, back in the world that she understood and flourished in. And in turn, there was that guilt again. Why did she not feel she could flourish in that other world? The world where she devoted her days to her child. That’s where women were supposed to feel most at home, wasn’t it?  
  
The psychologist in Eve recognised now that in those early days with Leo she presented symptoms of postnatal depression. At the time she had tried, to her detriment, to squash those feelings down. If she never gave voice to that lack of connection with her new son, then she could starve that fact of oxygen, she could extinguish her failure before anybody was any the wiser. And for the most part, that had worked. Niko had been unaware of Eve’s turmoil. He remained unaware. But Elena had seen her sister suffer similarly and, without ever using the diagnostic terminology, she had suggested that Eve find something that was her own and separate to work and family. So Eve had started running, and in many ways she hadn’t stopped since.  
  
Eve extricated herself from her bed and made her way to the bathroom, splashing cold water onto her face and tying her unruly hair back before brushing her teeth and returning to the bedroom to dress in her running leggings and a light hooded sweater. She passed the snores emanating from Niko and left the bedroom. On the landing there was one door that remained partially open and Eve pushed it open further, stopping it at the point just before she knew it would creak on its hinges. Leo was sleeping peacefully, one arm drooping over the side of the bed. That was the giveaway that he was really asleep and not merely pretending. Sleeping Leo was a game that Niko had invented to his son’s delight some years earlier. Its rules were pretty self-explanatory really. But Leo wasn’t playing this morning. If Leo were awake, then that arm would be up and out of the way of potential monsters under the bed. Boots the cat, who had been curled at the foot of the bed, opened her eyes slowly as Eve peered into the room before standing and stretching, her back arching and her tail quivering then hopping nimbly to the floor. Eve pulled the door back to its original position as Boots slipped out of the room and offered a morning mewl to Eve. Eve bent to scratch under Boots’ chin and then made her way downstairs and out of the house with a minor detour to replenish the biscuits in Boots’ bowl.  
  
Running was liberating. The pounding of Eve’s feet on the pavement, her regulated breathing, the burn in her calves and lungs, it soothed her soul. It had become her lifeline at times, the only way to work out the tension of work and anything else that arose. Sure, it made her days longer. She had to run early before her son awoke or she would run the risk of eating into yet more time of the day that she should spend with him. And today, well, today the running felt exceptionally good.

By the time Eve arrived back at her own front door, she was gasping for breath and the few wisps of hair that had struggled free from their tie were sticking sweatily to her flushed forehead. She made her way directly to the kitchen in search of cold water.

“That was longer than usual.” Niko said as Eve entered the kitchen.

He was seated at the kitchen table with a steaming mug of coffee and his ipad, doubtlessly showing the morning headlines on the BBC News website. Opposite him sat Leo, still in his pyjamas, rubbing his hair sleepily with one hand and pushing a cut up slice of honey toast around a plate with the other.

“Oh yeah, I got carried away this morning,” Eve panted, stepping over to Leo and placing a kiss on his head.

She pulled back with a hint of honey on her lips. Clearly at some point, that honey covered hand had also been rubbing at Leo’s hair.

“Good morning Little Lion.” Eve said and received a roar in return as the table was sprayed with bits of chewed up toast.

Niko wiped the screen of his ipad with his sleeve and cast a look at Eve as she crossed to the sink for water and then gulped it down with a one-shouldered shrug at her husband.

“Busy day today?” Niko asked, having returned his attention to his screen.

“Mmm,” Eve hummed, “New client today.”

Niko nodded.

“A new one!” Leo exclaimed. “A boy or a girl?” He asked.

“A girl.” Eve replied.

“In jail?” Leo asked.

The prison aspect of his mother’s work had been a source of immense interest to Leo for a few months now, ever since she made an attempt to explain her job more clearly to him. He certainly was no closer to understanding her role, but the idea of prison had fascinated him ever since. The whole subject had only been compounded further when Eve’s brother had given Leo a junior version of Monopoly for Christmas. Leo was now convinced that Eve was the one who made the Get Out Of Jail Free cards. Eve had begun to explain that she also sometimes made it so that people had to _stay_ in jail, but that fact didn’t seem to have stuck.

“Yes, in jail.” Eve agreed.

Leo nodded knowingly.

“Bad people go to jail.” Leo pointed out authoritatively.

“Well, not necessarily.” Eve began, “Sometimes good people do bad things. And sometimes people aren’t very well and that makes them do bad things.”

Niko looked up from his ipad and raised a sceptical eyebrow at Eve as Leo cocked his head on one side and pushed one sticky finger back and forth across the table-top.

“I got sick once. Do you remember? I got sick all on the sofa. That was bad.” Leo said thoughtfully.

“Yes, well—” Eve started.

“People don’t go to jail for being sick on the sofa.” Niko cut in.

“Oh.” Leo said, and took an overly large bite of toast. “What did she do? Your new one. Where did she get sick?”

“She didn’t get sick anywhere.” Eve said calmly, “People don’t go to jail for being sick. That’s just what happens when you’re poorly, isn’t it?” Eve pointed out.

“So what did she do? Was she naughty?” Leo asked again.

“She was naughty a long time ago. I am going to see if she can behave better now.” Eve explained patiently.

There really was no good way to explain Oksana Astankova’s crime to her six-year-old son over breakfast. Actually, there were probably very few people who would want to hear the details of genital mutilation over coffee and cornflakes. And those who did want to hear about it, probably weren’t the kind of people anyone would want to have breakfast with anyway.

Leo appeared to consider this new information from Eve carefully.

“Will she be bad to you?” He asked finally.

“No,” Eve laughed, “She won’t be bad to me.” She promised.

“OK.” Leo replied, immediately becoming chirpier again, “At school today we are going to do swimming!” Leo replied, waving his arms about in what was presumably a swimming stroke. Gone was the concern for his mother’s safety.

“That’s great!” Eve exclaimed, “Swimming is really… good exercise.”

Niko snorted into his coffee cup but Eve ignored him.

“What time will you be back tonight?” Niko asked as Leo busied himself with another colossal bite of toast.

“Might be late. This new one is a bit of a drive.” Eve replied, snagging a banana from the fruit bowl and peeling it.

Niko nodded.

“Back for bath time?” Leo asked, thankfully remembering to swallow his toast first this time.

“Back for bath time.” Eve confirmed. And then she caught sight of the time on the digital clock on the microwave.

“Oh Sh—Sugar snaps. It’s nearly eight!” Eve exclaimed, “I’ve got to get ready.”

Eve cast an apologetic look at Niko after her near linguistic blunder, but he merely raised his eyebrows.

“Sugar snaps!” Leo chuckled, shaking his head.

“Right young man, time to get dressed.” Niko said decisively, standing from the table and taking Leo’s finally emptied plate. “Say goodbye to mum.”

“Bye mum,” Leo parroted, allowing Eve to kiss the top of his head once more before she blustered out of the room and upstairs to get ready.

“Jacob in my class is naughty.” Leo said to Niko as he pushed his chair under the table and out of the way. “He should go to jail.”

Niko sighed.

 

 

This was a correctional facility that Eve had been to only once before, and that had been a couple of years ago now. But, once she had secured a parking spot and made her way to the entrance, the routine of entering one of these places was the same everywhere. She was walked through a metal detector arch and was given a visitor badge with her name and profession on it along with a hastily taken photo. Dr Polastri, Forensic Psychologist.

Eve had become well versed in making herself look good in these impromptu photos. As good as it was possible to look in harsh lighting against a white background anyway. Once, she had made the mistake of likening the photo to a mug shot. She had been joking, of course, but given the setting it perhaps had not been the best choice of humour. Either way her gag had fallen on the ears of a surly guard who remained thoroughly unamused and Eve had learnt her lesson.

Now she found herself seated in the reception area beyond the buzzing locked door and awaiting Oksana Astankova’s caseworker. Eve had just opened the file in her lap to go over the meagre details of this new client one more time when a voice interrupted her.

“Eve Polastri, it’s been too long.”

Eve looked up from the file in her lap and took in the man who had just entered.

“Bill!” Eve let out, standing immediately and stepping towards the newcomer, “I didn’t know you had transferred.”

“Two years ago,” Bill nodded, “I had hoped we might cross paths again, so imagine my joy at seeing your name come up.” He added.

Eve embraced him tightly. The two of them had had reason to meet frequently in the past, when Eve’s services were required in the prisons that Bill worked at, and they had quickly built up a rapport. It had been years since they saw each other now though. Acquaintances, it seemed to Eve, were easy to lose when life got in the way of work.

“It’s good to see you, Bill.” Eve said genuinely, still smiling at him.

“Good to see you too.” Bill replied warmly, “Great mug shot.” He said tapping the visitor badge around Eve’s neck.

“What can I say? I’m a pro.” Eve retorted with a shrug and a smile.

“I’m afraid you might be less pleased to see me when you meet who I’ve got lined up for you today.” Bill said teasingly.

“Oh? She’s a tricky one, is she?” Eve asked.

“Remember the bloke who poisoned his neighbour’s milk?” Bill asked leadingly.

“He also stole her underwear and wore it when he handed himself in.” Eve nodded.

“Oh, he did! I had forgotten that. The lace quite suited him actually.” Bill mused, “Anyway, she’s even more fun than that guy.”

Eve groaned.

“But Eve Polastri likes a challenge, does she not?” Bill asked.

Eve let out a huff of laughter.

“That very much depends on the challenge. And I have read the file on this one.” Eve intoned darkly.

“Ah. Yes.” Bill nodded seriously. “You will find her interesting at the very least, I’m sure.” He said diplomatically.

Bill led Eve down a corridor and through yet another buzzing door that he opened with an electronic fob next to his own identification card around his neck.

“Here we are,” Bill said, opening a door to the left of the corridor and holding it open for Eve. “Make yourself comfortable and I will go and collect your date.” He said with a twitch of his eyebrows.

Eve rolled her eyes. He hadn’t changed at all, and she found herself glad of it.

“I’ll open the wine.” Eve replied sarcastically and Bill laughed.

“You’re going to want a glass or five after this,” he called over his shoulder as he left the room. The door clicked behind him as the automatic locking system was engaged. Beside the door there was a conspicuous button that Eve knew would call the nearest guard to the room if it was pushed.

The room was beige, with two chairs and a low coffee table on which there stood a plant that was definitely plastic. Its overly green leaves had gathered a thin layer of dust. It was clear that some vague attempt had been made to make the room seem calming and pleasant, but it was impossible to forget that it was inside a prison. Eve had come to the conclusion that these rooms were all the same. Plastic plant and a panic button. She placed her leather satchel down on the floor by her feet. It had been checked as she entered the building, but her drinks bottle, notebook and Dictaphone had all passed the test and made it across the security barrier. Eve placed her notebook and Dictaphone on the table in front of her and leaned back in her chair. It was leather and it squeaked slightly as she moved.

Eve let out a slow exhale. The first appointment was often the hardest. She didn’t know what she was about to come up against. Eve flicked a non-existent piece of fluff from the arm of her blazer. She prided herself on her appearance and had always found it helped to look smart when it came to being taken seriously as a woman. Besides, Eve liked clothes. At home, she now resided in sweatshirts and jeans after her favourite pieces had too often been marred with felt tip pens and wayward snacks. At work, she felt more as though she could dress like herself. Today that meant her tailored blazer, a silk shirt and cropped, neatly pressed trousers above her polished brogues. She pulled her black-rimmed glasses from her bag and placed them on before running a hand through her loose hair and tying it back to keep it out of her face. She could only wear it like that for short amounts of time before it gave her a headache, but it looked more professional than having it loose.

Eve was just examining a potential scuff-mark on her left shoe when the door clicked metallically and opened once more and Bill re-entered the room, this time shuffling a young woman in ahead of him.

“Dr Polastri,” Bill started, professionalism kicking in now that they were in front of the client. “This is Oksana Astankova.”

Eve smiled at the young woman, trying her best to seem friendly and non-threatening but the other woman avoided making eye contact. She was curled in on herself, her shoulders hunched and her feet so close together that they were touching.

“Hello Oksana.” Eve said calmly.

Oksana nodded, still not raising her head to meet Eve’s eyes.

These initial meetings, Eve reminded herself, were not only tough for the psychologist. The thought of being assessed was bound to make the other woman feel anxious. Eve had seen this behaviour before, though from reading the file and from Bill’s forewarning just minutes earlier, this timid creature had not been what Eve was expecting.

“Dr Polastri is the forensic psychologist that will be taking over your assessment as requested by your solicitor.” Bill explained to Oksana, who appeared to be listening, though she made no noise to show she understood.

Bill glanced at Eve and shook his head with an expression that Eve couldn’t quite read.

“Astankova.” Bill said a bit louder, and Oksana looked up at him. “Dr Polastri is an old friend of mine.” He said in a tone that suggested that what he was saying was important. “So behave.” He ended firmly, keeping his gaze unflinchingly on Oksana’s own startled wide eyes.

Oksana nodded rigorously and then turned her eyes to the ground once more, tucking her hands up into her sleeves and gripping the material tightly.

Bill sighed and moved to leave the room. Just as he turned to pull the door closed behind him, he caught Eve’s eye and mouthed two words at her.

“Good luck.”


	4. Chapter 4

The door closed behind Bill, and Eve found herself alone in the beige consultation room with Oksana Astankova standing opposite her, staring intently at the ground and rubbing one prison-issue black boot against the other.

“Oksana,” Eve said gently, “Have a seat.” She gestured at the seat opposite her own.  
  
Oksana’s eyes darted fearfully up at Eve and then she nodded jerkily and edged towards the chair before sitting down. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, her hands still hidden in her sleeves. She didn’t look at Eve, instead her eyes were fixed in a blank stare on the plastic plant between them.

Eve watched her quietly and then cleared her throat.

“So, as Mr Pargrave said, I am Dr Polastri and I would like it if we could spend a bit of time getting to know each other today. Does that sound OK?” Eve asked, keeping the volume of her voice low and even.

Oksana shrugged and pulled one of her hands up above her knees to examine her sleeve.

Internally, Eve sighed. Evidently this one was going to take a while to break into. On the outside, Eve merely smiled and nodded, keeping her posture open and relaxed.

“Great. If you don’t mind, I would like to record what we say here today in case I need to refresh my memory at any point. Is that alright with you?” Eve asked.

She was going to record their sessions either way, but asking a direct yes or no question seemed the only way that she might get this woman to speak.

“ _Oui_.” Oksana said, barely audible.

Now, that took Eve by surprise. She hid her surprise though, and merely leaned forward to switch on her Dictaphone.

“You speak French?” Eve asked nonchalantly.

Oksana nodded.

“From your name I assumed you had Russian heritage.” Eve mused, keeping her eyes on the woman opposite.

“ _Mon père est Russe._ ” Came the timid response.

“Is that so?” Eve replied, “And your mother? Is she Russian also? Or is she French perhaps?”

“ _Ma mère est née à Paris. Elle était ballerine_.” Oksana said just above a whisper.

Eve listened intently. She had studied French at school and had even travelled in France for several months one summer after university. It had been a while, but she could understand these basic statements.

“She was a ballerina? What is she now?” Eve enquired softly.

“ _Morte. Elle est morte quand j’étais jeune._ ” Oksana replied, her eyes focusing once more on the cuff of her sweatshirt that she twisted between her fingers.

Eve nodded thoughtfully and then took a calculated risk.

“Bullshit.” Eve said decisively.

Finally, Eve found herself looking into the eyes of Oksana Astankova. They were an unusual colour, a kind of golden green in this light, though Eve suspected in other lights they may be closer to hazel. They were wide set and almost catlike. Where Eve had thought she may find the flat, lifeless, quality that she had seen in Oksana’s initial mug shot, she found a spark of something else, something she couldn’t quite identify. There was intelligence there for sure, and a quiet anger, a hint of curiosity and… something else.

“Your vocabulary is limited yet accurate,” Eve explained, “But your pronunciation is off.”

“It is not.” Oksana rebuked loudly in her regular English accent.

In the space of one word from Eve, Oksana’s body language had shifted entirely. The other woman was no longer folding herself inwards. Her shoulders had been pushed back defiantly and her face was aimed directly at Eve, her gaze cold and steely.

“I’m afraid it is.” Eve confirmed. “If I had to guess, I would say you are somebody who is frequently restless, who needs to occupy her mind. You’re intelligent and you like learning, so in the eight years you have been here, you have taught yourself French from language books in the library.”

Oksana’s eyes narrowed as she fixed Eve with an even darker glare.

“However, books alone can’t always teach accurate pronunciation.” Eve concluded. “So your accent gave you away.”

Eve leant back in her chair and met Oksana’s glare unflinchingly.

“Was I close?” Eve prompted.

Oksana let her boots drop from the chair and onto the ground with a couple of loud thuds that Eve supposed were meant to sound threatening. There was a flash of pain across her expression as she moved her body, but it was quickly hidden. She didn’t cross her legs now, didn’t mirror Eve’s position, but merely left her feet a shoulder width apart, taking up as much space in the chair as she could.

“Where is the other woman? That fat one that usually sees me here?” Oksana demanded.

“Rebecca is pregnant. Not fat.” Eve replied with a polite smile, “And she is on maternity leave.”

“Somebody fucked _her_?” Oksana laughed in disbelief, “I bet she cried after that too.”

This character, this rude and abrasive individual who apparently thrived on trying to evoke a response was what Eve had been expecting. This was the tricky customer she had been promised.

“Is she your friend?” Oksana asked, “That fat woman?”

“She is my colleague.” Eve replied. Oksana didn't need to know that Eve though Rebecca was as good as useless.

“She is shit at her job.” Oksana said conversationally, “Do you cry when you work as well?”

“I can honestly say that I have never cried in an appointment.” Eve said truthfully. “Do you enjoy seeing people cry, Oksana?” she asked.

“I enjoyed seeing that woman cry. But it was too easy. Are you going to be more fun for me?” Oksana asked with a flash of a smile that showed her remarkably white teeth. She was attempting to intimidate, to gain the control of a situation in which she felt vulnerable.

“I’m not here to be fun for you.” Eve pointed out.

“No, you’re here to decide if I am a psychopath or not.” Oksana countered.

“That would be an inaccurate description of my role in this room.” Eve replied authoritatively.

There was flicker of uncertainty across Oksana’s face when she heard that. Eve could tell she wanted to demand an accurate description of Eve’s role then, but something was stopping her. Perhaps she didn’t want to seem too interested in her own fate here, perhaps it was dangerous for her to allow herself a glimmer of hope, or perhaps she merely didn’t want to admit she was wrong about Eve’s purpose. The room fell into silence. Oksana studied her nails disinterestedly for a moment and then brought her thumb up to her mouth and chewed defiantly on the skin next to the nail there.

Eve leaned forward and retrieved her notebook from the table. She opened it to a blank page and pretended to read the imaginary notes that were not written there. It was a tactic she had used before, it was a good way to relieve pressure from a client and make them feel as though Eve was not staring at them, not analysing every move they made. It was a particularly helpful manoeuvre with sensitive clients such as this one.

“You’re American.” Oksana pointed out loudly, fixing Eve with a stare once more.

“By birth, yes.” Eve nodded, glancing up briefly and then returning to her non-existent notes. She didn’t add any follow up information to Oksana’s question.

Eve wasn’t fond of giving away personal details to the people she worked with, for obvious reasons. But her accent was a bit of a giveaway in that regard, so she let Oksana have that one. It might come in handy to have leverage.

“What is your name?” Oksana asked not even a minute later.

“Dr Polastri.” Eve replied, not lifting her eyes from her notebook.

“I know that,” Oksana snapped angrily, “You told me that. I mean what is your first name?”

“I don’t think you need to know my first name.” Eve replied evenly, not reacting to the change in Oksana’s tone. “Why is it that you think you need to know it?”

“You know mine.” Oksana replied instantly. “Why shouldn’t I call you by your name?”

“Do you call Mr Pargrave by his first name?” Eve enquired.

The room went quiet once more, and Eve gave herself an internal pat on the back. One point to Dr Polastri.

“You can’t call me Oksana then.” Oksana said after a moment. She sounded like a petulant teenager, though Eve did at least know her age for a fact. A teenager, she was not. A slight case of arrested development perhaps? Oksana had spent the majority of her teenaged years institutionalised after all. Or perhaps she was just a petty person, lashing out because she didn’t like the position she found herself in.

The way Oksana said her own name interested Eve. There had been a couple of words that Oksana had said during the course of their tense conversation that Eve thought had a distinctly un-English twang to them. The ghost of an accent that lingered at the edges, rusted on over time and now immoveable. And she had a strange way of speaking very properly, without shortening her words – ‘did not’ instead of ‘didn’t’ and so on. But the way she said ‘Oksana’ was undeniably Russian. Perhaps that titbit about her father was true after all. Perhaps the Russian name was not just a family heirloom or a throwback to an earlier generation.

“You would like me to call you Astankova?” Eve asked.

“If I have to call you Dr Polastri.” Oksana replied with a shrug, imitating Eve’s voice when she said her name.

“That seems fair.” Eve agreed. Because, well, it did.

“You are married.” Oksana said immediately.

Eve glanced at the wedding band on her finger. Another bit of personal information that she inadvertently gave out for free.

“You seem to be under the impression that we are here to talk about me.” Eve replied.

“Are you married to a man?” Oksana asked, ignoring Eve’s observation.

That was Oksana’s most surprising question so far, and perhaps it was rather telling too. It certainly gave Eve food for thought.

“We are here to talk about you, not me.” Eve tried again.

“You said, ‘We’re going to spend a bit of time getting to know each other today’.” Oksana said, putting on a simpering voice that supposedly was meant to mock Eve’s earlier approach with Oksana’s mild mouse of a character.

And that was a point to Oksana, Eve admitted to herself. She shouldn’t have been so hasty to believe Oksana’s little act when she first arrived in the room.

“I am just trying to get to know you, Dr Polastri,” Oksana cut into Eve’s thoughts, her voice velvet-y and dangerous now. Her eyes were fixed on Eve almost predatorily and Eve struggled to hide the shiver than ran through her. That was unusual.  
  
“Are you married to a man?” Oksana asked again, still refusing to move her eye line from Eve.

Eve broke the eye contact. She couldn’t help it. Her gaze flicked needlessly to the wall behind Oksana and then back to the other woman once more.

“Do you have a problem with men, Astankova?” Eve asked instead of answering the question.

Oksana let out a harsh laugh that almost made Eve jump in surprise.

“You have read my file, have you?” Oksana asked with a sneer, “That would be a nice tidy way to wrap it up, wouldn’t it? To assume that I did what I did because I have a problem with men.” It was the most Oksana had said in one go so far and Eve could see she was becoming agitated.

“I imagine it would be safe to say you had a problem with that particular man.” Eve said, keeping her tone conversational.

“And therefore I have a problem with all men?” Oksana demanded, “That’s a bit fucking basic, isn’t it Dr?” She asked with a laugh and a shake of her head before, continuing, “You’re no better than the last one, are you? You’re just not as fat.”

Eve did not react. She knew the goal was to make her react.

“He was your father, correct?” Eve asked.

The minute the words were out of her mouth she knew she had taken a pretty big risk. The man had decidedly not been Oksana’s father. Eve knew that. She knew it. But she needed to test a theory.

“My father is nothing like that piece of shit.” Oksana seethed, leaning forward towards Eve and showing her clenched teeth. There was a wild look in Oksana’s eyes now, a fury that had smouldered for years, sparking into life at the hint of a breeze.

“Your step-father. My mistake.” Eve amended lightly.

Her risk had paid off. The father was certainly a revered character. Perhaps not one to be explored any further in this particular appointment, but certainly something to poke at again in the future.

“You are as incompetent as the last one.” Oksana said bitingly. “I hope someone gets _you_ fucking pregnant so I don’t have to see you anymore either.”

“Everybody makes mistakes.” Eve replied, “Surely you have made mistakes.”

“No.” Oksana said resolutely.

“I don’t believe that.” Eve said.

“I couldn’t give a fuck what you believe.” Oksana said, leaning back in her chair and biting the skin next to her thumb nail once more. She averted her gaze from Eve and instead studied the beige wall to her left.

Eve took the moment to examine the woman before her whilst she was studiously _not_ looking at Eve. Her frame was larger than Eve’s. It hadn’t been so noticeable when Oksana first arrived in the room, what with her hunched shoulders and awkward shuffling. She had made herself small, but in reality, she must be more than little taller than Eve. Her hair was honey blonde and hanging limply, loosely, about her shoulders but still revealing her defined jawline. She had full lips that were currently pulled back slightly as she did yet more damage to her thumb. And whilst it could not be confirmed beneath the veil of baggy prison-wear, the way she held herself suggested to Eve that she was both strong and slim. Her eyes though, they remained the most captivating thing about her. There was such a lot going on within them, and when she had cast that daring stare at Eve…

“I’m married to a man.” Eve offered up simply, surprising even herself by doing so.

Eve watched as Oksana’s glinting teeth momentarily halted their work on her thumb, but those eyes didn’t turn on Eve, and Oksana gave no other indication that she had heard what Eve said.

There was a knock on the door and barely a pause before it opened and Bill’s head appeared around it before he stepped into the room.

“Everybody OK?” He asked with an uncertain smile, “No bruising or blood loss?” He was addressing both occupants of the room but his eye line was on Eve, his brows raised in silent question.

“All fine,” Eve confirmed with a nod and a tight smile.

She found herself oddly relieved to see Bill. His appearance marked the end of this initial appointment. It hadn’t gone brilliantly well, but it could have been worse. After all, there really wasn’t any bruising or blood loss. Eve reached up to pull her hair free of its tie. Normally she would wait until she left the room to do this, but she could feel the tension creeping into her scalp already. As she ran her fingers through the wild curls in attempt to assert some kind of order over them, Eve became aware of a certain set of eyes appraising her.

“Did you behave yourself?” Bill asked teasingly, now looking at Oksana.

“I’m not a fucking child.” Oksana spat, immediately averting her attention from Eve and standing from the chair abruptly to make her way to the door.

“I’ll take that as a no then.” Bill muttered, casting an apologetic look at Eve before crossing back to the door to let Oksana out.

Eve raised a hand to Bill, brushing off his concern.

“See you next week.” Eve said lightly to Oksana as she disappeared from the room. She expected no reply and she got exactly that.

Bill rolled his eyes at Eve before following Oksana hastily into the corridor.

This had hardly been the most traumatic appointment Eve had been through during her years in this profession. In fact, Oksana Astankova was every bit the interesting character Eve had hoped she would be. Equal parts playful and testing. It was clear she was going to push Eve, and Eve had every intention of pushing back just as hard.

 

 

Bill pulled the consultation room door closed behind him and turned to find that Oksana had already stalked halfway down the corridor away from him.

“Hold your horses.” Bill called.

Oksana ground to a halt but did not turn.

“Was it that bad?” Bill asked with a chuckle.

“She is a dick.” Oksana huffed.

“Hey!” Bill exclaimed, “Dr Polastri is certainly not a dick.” He defended. “I have known her a long time, she’s a good woman and she’s very good at her job. You should be pleased she was assigned to you.”

“Oh yeah? Should I?” Oksana said in faux excitement and then returned her voice to its usual tone, “She is a dick. I want to go back to my cell now.”

“You have to get your bandage changed first.” Bill pointed out.

“It is fine!” Oksana exclaimed, “I don’t need that sweaty little pervert pawing at my tits.”

Bill sighed.

“You know, your life would be so much easier if you just cooperated.” Bill said tiredly.

“You mean _your_ life would be easier. My life looks like this whether I cooperate or not.” Oksana said grumpily.

“You’re still getting your bandages changed.” Bill said, not rising to Oksana’s bait.

“You trust me not to hurt that little medic?” She asked sweetly, “You don’t think I might swipe one of his scalpels and slice his flaccid knob off? That is my speciality, you know.” Her eyes flashed excitedly and Bill didn't want to guess whether that excitement was fabricated or not.

He eyed the ceiling despairingly.

“Eve must have really pushed your buttons.” Bill muttered to himself under his breath.

“What?” Oksana barked, no longer playful. “What did you say to me?”

“I didn’t say anything to you. I was talking to myself.” Bill replied.

“Oh? Maybe you’re the crazy one then. Maybe you should go and talk to the woman with the hair.” Oksana suggested with a smirk.

“I’ll be speaking to her, don’t you worry.” Bill said quietly. “And so will you,” he added a bit louder, “Every week for the next five months, so I suggest you try to find a way to get along.”


	5. Chapter 5

The medic had changed Oksana’s bandage after once again wiping her mostly scabbed over wound with antiseptic. Mr Pargrave had remained in the room for the entirety of the examination this time. Perhaps he was concerned that Oksana would follow through with her threat and cause some bodily harm to Kenny the weedy little medic. It would be so easy to do and it would probably feel good too. Especially today. But Oksana had remained silent throughout, she was well aware that sometimes silence was more unnerving than barbed insults and gnashing teeth.

Now, back in her cell and with only dinner to break up a long evening ahead, Oksana was forced to relive the events of the day. She had finished the book Mr Pargrave had given her within a matter of hours. Maybe she should have savoured it but the moment she stepped into Dostoyevsky’s descriptions of the streets of her home, she had become ravenous for more. She ached as she read, she always did. She had not grown up in the 19thcentury St Petersburg but so much of it was recognisable to her still. And those words of loneliness, they filled the hollow of Oksana’s chest with familiarity. She had not deserved the hand she had been dealt, and neither had her father. And now separated as she was from everything she held dear… Well, today she could admit to herself that she was lonely.

She had planned to enjoy her visit to the fat psychologist, she had made a bet with herself that she could make her cry within the first twenty minutes of their appointment. But Mr Pagrave had blindsided her en route to the consultation room by saying it would not be the fat psychologist this time, but somebody new. He had done that on purpose, she knew it; he had withheld that information in order that Oksana wouldn’t have time to decide what to do with it.

She hadn’t planned on her little acting exercise. Hadn’t planned to slip into that meek character, it had happened naturally. Self-preservation, she supposed, a way to allow her the time assess her surrounding. She had seen that timid character before; it was the role of many of the new girls Oksana had seen over the years arriving in the prison for the first time. They had doubtless heard rumours about prison, about the dangers that could befall them here, and they tried to make themselves small, inconspicuous, allow themselves time to judge the threats without drawing attention to themselves. They were the easiest to split away from the herd, a mere empty offer of advice and friendship had them hanging on Oksana’s words every single time. It’s impossible to know who might be useful down the line. Her father had taught her that. Oksana didn’t have his patience though. Or his interpersonal skills. She was easily annoyed and more often than not, these fresh inmates were more fun to fuck with than anything else. Sometimes literally. Besides, entertainment in a place like this _is_ useful. That is how Oksana would explain her behaviour to her father if she were able.

Oksana thought she had played the part well. And yet, that woman had bested her. She had seen through it. Initially Oksana had been quietly impressed, but as their consultation had continued she found herself becoming more and more irritated by the woman. She refused to answer Oksana’s questions. They were not invasive questions, not nearly as invasive as the questions the woman undoubtedly planned to ask Oksana in due course. Is it really too much to want to know someone’s name? Dr Polastri hadn’t budged though, she had backed Oksana into a corner and now there was yet another person who referred to her just as her surname. It was a good surname, of course, and within certain circles in Russia it was both feared and revered. Oksana was proud to bear its weight. But a part of her, a very small part that was buried deep within her and lodged between her ribs, longed to hear someone use her name. Her first name. The one that had been chosen specifically for her.

“Hello Oksana.”

That initial greeting today, that had felt good. Dr Polastri had a relatively low voice, slightly husky, very sure of herself. 

But no. That woman had left Oksana no choice but to revoke the use of her first name. She had refused to react to Oksana’s games and briefly she thought this Dr Polastri with the beautiful hair and the clothes that Oksana yearned to touch, to feel the quality of, might be a worthy opponent. And then she had suggested that the bastard had been her father. Oksana had felt bile rise in her throat at the suggestion, acidic and angry.

What kind of psychologist failed to read such a vital part of her file? Dr Polastri hadn’t seemed inept up until that point. She had called Oksana out on her bullshit with utter confidence, she had sidestepped her demands and it had been irritating but impressive. Then she fucked up colossally. If Oksana hadn’t been focused on trying to find a way to unseat this new adversary she would have noticed earlier that the good doctor wasn’t all she was cracking herself up to be. Except… Oksana _had_ been focused. She had watched the other woman temper her responses and school her features. So why did she then make such an obvious mistake? It made no sense. Unless… It wasn’t a mistake.

Oksana lifted her head from where it had rested on her thin pillow. A wave of realisation washed over her, a confusing mix of fury and admiration. Dr Polastri had done that on purpose. She knew full well that the bastard wasn’t her father. She was playing Oksana at her own game. She just wanted a reaction. And Oksana gave her exactly what she wanted. She, Oksana Astankova, walked head first into a trap laid by that diminutive doctor with the amazing hair. It had been a calculated mistake, a conscious error to test Oksana… Dr Polastri _was_ a smart woman.

She was married to a man though, Oksana mused. That was surely a waste, but never mind. As the doctor said, everyone makes mistakes.

A smile spread across Oksana’s lips. Maybe these five months of appointments would be fun after all. It had been so long since she’d had a real challenge, something to truly sink her teeth into. And when Oksana sank her teeth into something, she didn’t let go until it was defeated.

Oksana was just ruminating pleasantly on that thought when there was a loud clanging and the door to her cell opened. It was one of the female prison guards, one of many of the personnel who had no great love for Oksana Astankova.

Oksana peered over the side of her bunk and raised an eyebrow pointedly.

“Oh good,” Oksana drawled, “Room service.”

“Cute.” The guard replied gruffly. “Letter for you.”

Oksana swung herself over the edge of her bunk immediately, forgetting again the wound in her side and feeling it tear. She landed heavily and this time was unable to hide her pain as she crumpled to one side and gripped her ribs. Her sudden movement had been intended to startle the guard, but the guard merely chuckled as she observed Oksana’s wilted stature.

“Thought you were meant to be clever.” She said, “I heard about your little injury.”

Oksana straightened herself to her full height and held her hand out.

“My letter.” She snarled. “This should have been here weeks ago.”

“It would have been if it didn’t have to go a translator to be checked first. Get your uncle to write in bloody English and you will get your precious letters quicker.” The guard replied coldly.

“Give it to me.” Oksana said, shaking her hand that remained outstretched.

“Ask nicely.” The guard said with a smirk, holding the envelope tauntingly out of reach.

“Please.” Oksana said through gritted teeth. Normally she would never stoop so low as to give into the sadistic demands of these sad women.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” The guard said smugly, handing the already opened envelope to Oksana who snatched it away instantly.

“You’re always so uptight,” Oksana said to the guard sympathetically, happy now she had her letter, “What’s wrong? Not getting any?” she asked with a pout.

The guard clenched her jaw. And Oksana laughed.

“You need to relieve a little tension, hmm?” Oksana continued, “I’m sure one of the new girls would be all too happy to help you out.”

The guard remain silent, but Oksana watched as her nostrils flared.

“I would do you myself,” Oksana said pleasantly, and then dropped her voice to a whisper, “But I don’t think you could handle me.”

Oksana winked and watched the guard clench her fist and then unclench it.

“You’re bleeding.” The guard said abruptly and nodded to Oksana’s stomach. “Hope it’s not too painful for you.” She added acerbically and backed out of the cell, the door clanging shut behind her.

Oksana kept her gaze on the guard until she was out of sight and she heard the familiar sound of the lock being engaged. Then she looked down and examined her sweater. Sure enough, a rosette of crimson blood was seeping into the grey material.

“Shit.” Oksana hissed.  
  
She tentatively peeled the sweater away from her wound, wincing as it pulled at her flesh before tugging what had been a fresh bandage from around her ribs. She lifted her sweater over her head and felt the wound burn as she did so. There was a fair amount of blood there now, oozing steadily from the gash and then flowing in red rivulets down the plain of her stomach.

Oksana sighed in frustration and pulled a t-shirt – grey, of course – from the lower bunk, bunched it into a ball and pushed it firmly against her side. She held the t-shirt against her side whilst she heaved herself one handed up the ladder to her bunk, the letter clenched securely between her lips.

For the past eight years Oksana had lived from letter to letter. When one arrived she would feel her heart lighten and she was devour it, pouring over every word that spoke of home. But they would last a matter of minutes and then she would sink again, sometimes further into the shadows than before, and she knew it would be a long wait for another glimpse of light. The letters were read before they reached Oksana, and in order for that to happen, they had to be read by someone who understood Russian, was familiar with its alphabet. Luckily for Oksana, that person was not always the same one it seemed, or perhaps by now the interpreter would have cracked the same code that Oksana had. It had taken a while. The first few letters from home, from her ‘beloved uncle’, were utterly bizarre. Oksana didn’t have a pet dog, certainly not a poorly one named Lubov who had been confined at the vets for longer than the family had anticipated. She didn’t have a friend called Sofia, and she had never even been to Gdansk.

Oksana had read and re-read those letters. Konstantin wasn’t crazy, so there must be something here she was missing. She was smart enough not to ask for clarification, but to play along in her return correspondence until this hazy new language they were speaking became clear. And it had. In time, Oksana had learnt it as fluently as she had learnt French. Or at least as fluently as she had _thought_ she had learnt French until Dr Polastri kicked her confidence on that one. Oksana would have to work on her pronunciation somehow…

And what had dear old Uncle Konstantin got to say today? Oksana’s father was well. Konstantin was still able to visit him privately; evidently the right people were still accepting the compliments of the Astankovas. Not for the first time, Oksana wished that, if she had to have been imprisoned, it could have been in Russia. Her people could better help her there. She would have to tell Konstantin about her upcoming parole hearing. Maybe now, finally, there might be a way for him to… move proceedings in the right direction. Oksana didn’t dare to hope.

What else? The snow had fallen thickly this year and it had made life more difficult. Ice caused dangerous slips-ups. Konstantin feared for the animals in the forest as they struggled to find enough food. He pointed out though, how fortunate the bears were, for they were able to hibernate, safely away from harm, until spring came again. Then there was a whole bit about how beautiful spring would be… Sometimes Konstantin really found his poetic side when it came to these letters. Oksana could not imagine him extolling the beauties of snowdrops and cherry blossom out loud. Still, he was right, spring would be beautiful. Oksana yearned for it.

A heart-heavy sigh escaped her as she folded the letter back into its torn envelope. She would think over Konstantin’s words before replying to her ‘doting uncle’. She needed to think about the best way to bury her update into her words and ask for the kind of assistance that only Konstantin and what remained of the Astankovas could provide. It had to be done delicately.

Now though, it felt like it must be nearing dinnertime, which meant she better find herself a fresh, un-bloodied sweatshirt to wear to the canteen, lest she wants to face another trip to the medic today. Oksana pulled herself into a sitting position and gently retracted the hand that was still tightly pressing her bunched up t-shirt to her wound. It didn’t look good, but the bleeding had slowed to a sticky stop. She spied her discarded bandage on the floor of her cell. It would just have to do. Tomorrow she would be getting a new one anyway. She could certainly make it through dinner with a grubby bandage, she would take it off when she returned to her cell for the night.

Oksana felt lighter than she had earlier, and not just because of the mild blood loss. It was rare to have something new to think about in her situation. Unusual for a new character to arrive in her narrative. Discounting any new inmates, of course. They all fitted into the same categories one way or another. New and scared. New and angry. That was about it really. But this evening, Oksana had plans to make. She needed to write her letter to Konstantin, _and_ she needed to plan her strategy with Dr Polastri.

When Oksana had stormed from the consultation room earlier, sick of staring at that tacky plastic plant, she would never had said she would be looking forward to her next appointment. Nevertheless, she found that she actually was. A nice weekly duelling match against someone with intelligence worthy of her own… that would be nice. Oksana had written the doctor off too quickly and now her words came back to her for a second time. Everybody makes mistakes. Including, apparently, Oksana Astankova.


	6. Chapter 6

On the evening after her first appointment with Oksana, Eve had made it home for bath time. But only just. She had ignored the pointed look Niko had given her as she had burst through the front door at 6.45, slung her coat and bag over a chair in the kitchen and dashed upstairs to launch immediately into helping her son get washed and ready for bed. It had resulted in one of her favourite silk shirts getting an unnecessary soaking, but there were always casualties of bath time.

Eve had dried Leo off and wrestled him into his pyjamas, then they had both relocated to his bedroom, squashed uncomfortably into his narrow single bed as she read him the same book he had requested every night for the past two weeks, according to Niko. It was a story about a missing hat and it wasn’t quite as tedious as some of the others, so Eve found it was almost enjoyable.

With Leo contentedly dropping off to sleep, Eve slipped from her precarious position on his bed and tucked him in, kissed him on the forehead and turned out the light on her way out of his room. She remembered to leave his door open a little and the landing light remained on.  
  
Downstairs Eve made her way to the kitchen where Niko was washing up. She poured herself a generous glass of wine and rolled her head from one shoulder to the other before taking a large sip and feeling the relief spread to her extremities. She rubbed her hand in soothing circles on Niko’s shirt-clad back between his shoulder blades.

“I thought there was a ‘no wine on a weeknight’ rule in place?” Niko asked, shooting Eve a smile over his shoulder.

“Ugh,” Eve groaned, “I’m having a night off.”

Niko chuckled softly and returned to his dishes.

“You want?” Eve asked, holding up the bottle.

“Go on then,” Niko replied after a moment’s thought, “As we’re having a night off.”

Eve nodded and began pouring the wine before stopping.

“Actually.” She said, “Stop that. If we’re having a night off, then there’s no washing up either.”

Niko laughed again and pulled his soapy hands from the sink in front of him, holding them up in surrender and dripping washing up water onto his jeans.

“You’re the boss.” He said.

“Damn right.” Eve mumbled jokingly and continued pouring Niko’s wine.

“Now then,” Eve said, holding up two glasses of wine, “Sofa.”

“Sofa.” Niko agreed, taking a glass from Eve.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

“I’ll have some toast or something in a bit.” Eve replied offhand.

“That’s not dinner, Eve.” Niko pointed out sternly. “There’s leftovers in the—”

“We’re having a night off, Niko.” Eve interrupted, matching his tone.

“Fine, fine.” He said surrendered, “Sofa it is.”

 

 An hour later found the pair of them on the sofa, Eve on her second glass of wine, watching some mindless comedy panel show. Niko had his arm around the back of the sofa behind Eve and she leaned comfortably into his chest.

“How was swimming?” Eve asked quietly.

“He can do five metres apparently.” Niko replied.

“That’s not very far.” Eve said with furrowed brows.

“He’s six!” Niko laughed, “They all use floats anyway.”

“Oh.” Eve let out, and then took another mouthful of her wine.

God she needed wine this evening.

“And how was your day?” Eve asked, “Did you get time to paint?”

“A bit. That commission is draining the life out of me though.” Niko said despondently.

“Paint something else, something you actually want to paint.” Eve suggested.

“They’re paying me a lot for that commission, you know?” Niko said, turning his head slightly and looking at the top of Eve’s head, unable to see her face where she rested against him.

“I know,” Eve said, “But it’s not the be all and end all. You don’t _need_ the money.” She explained. “You might has well do something that you enjoy.”

There was a moment’s silence, which Eve filled with another sip of wine and a sigh.

“You mean _you_ don’t need the money?” Niko said tightly.

Eve looked up at him in confusion.

“I wasn’t aware that our money was separate.” She said carefully.

“It’s not,” Niko said simply, “Our money is all your money. You make the money, don’t you?”

Niko’s arm was not around the back of the sofa any more and Eve sat up, feeling the tension radiating off Niko.

“That’s not fair, Niko. We decided this. _You_ decided this.” Eve said forcefully.

“We did. I know!” Niko shot back, raising his voice slightly.

“So what do you want me to say?” Eve replied exasperated.

“Nothing. I don’t know.” Niko said quietly, deflated. “It just seems…” he trailed off.

“Seems what?” Eve demanded. She could feel the wine warming her cheeks now, or it could be the irritation.

“How was your new case?” Niko asked.

“What?” Eve gasped, “We’re talking about something else. Why are you changing the subject?”

“I thought you were going to lessen your caseload, not increase it.” Niko pointed out blankly.

“Is that what this is about?” Eve asked, trying to maintain her anger. She could explain to Niko that she had secured an outcome for one of her cases, had got it off her books, _and_ that she had essentially traded two rather time-consuming cases for Oksana. Her caseload in fact had decreased by two in the last week.

“It just seems that you work… a lot.” Niko ventured.

Eve exhaled loudly and let out a humourless laugh.

“I do work a lot. You said it yourself, Niko, I make the money. How can I do that if I don’t work?” Eve said incredulously.

“You could make easily enough money and work less!” Niko said, losing his cool.

“I don’t want to work less!” Eve shot back immediately, matching Niko’s volume.

Niko’s face lost all tension; it sagged, defeated, and Eve’s words rang back into her in her own ears. They were true. She had said them instinctively and they were true, but they were certainly not what she should have said. Certainly not what Niko wanted to hear. Certainly not what any mother should feel.

Eve opened her mouth to say something more, but found she didn’t know what that something could possibly be. There wasn’t a lot she could say that would make this better right now.

“Right.” Niko sighed, keeping his eyes locked on Eve’s. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

He stood up from the sofa and collected his empty wine glass from the coffee table.

“Niko!” Eve said, grabbing his hand before he could walk away.

He turned to look at her expectantly, and once again no appropriate words formed on her tongue.

“Good night.” Eve said eventually.

Niko pulled his hand free and Eve listened as he walked to the kitchen, deposited his glass in the sink and then made his way upstairs.

Eve downed what was left in her wine glass. Two glasses were not enough tonight. She ventured back to the kitchen in search of the bottle, and maybe that toast she had promised herself. Something needed to help soak up this midweek wine.

Back in the kitchen, Eve leant back against the kitchen counter, cradling her wine glass as she waited for the toast to be ejected from the toaster. Boots appeared from nowhere, as she had a habit of doing, and twined herself around Eve’s legs until she stooped to pick the cat up. Boots purred contentedly in Eve’s arms and rubbed her head against Eve’s chin. Had Niko been fair earlier? Eve knows she works a lot. But she always has worked a lot. Ever since she got her first job in her chosen field. Ever since her and Niko first met. Ever since she first went back to work after Leo was born.

When they first discovered that Eve was pregnant, she had been thrown into a panic. A frantic phone call from the women’s bathroom at the office had led to one of Niko’s only appearances at Eve’s place of work. He had strode in, all bushy moustache and paint-covered denim shirt and Carolyn had been immediately enamoured by who she later referred to as ‘that gorgeous rugged husband of Eve’s’. Both Eve and Niko had had a good laugh over that when Eve relayed the story later when Eve had calmed down. They both knew that Niko was far from rugged. Nevertheless, he had tracked Eve down to the women’s bathroom and then had proceeded to lower himself to the ground next to her sobbing form and wrap her in his arms, holding her tightly to him.

They hadn’t been trying. They had always talked around the subject of children, never quite getting down to the nitty-gritty of it. They both wanted them. Someday. Niko was always more taken with the idea than Eve, but it had been on her to-do list. It had always been some distant life goal that she had vaguely thought she would tick off someday. When that little plastic stick and its double blue line had suddenly pushed that item forward out of the distance and right to the top of the to-do list, Eve had felt wholly unprepared. Niko had been great though. He knew what Eve’s work meant to her, he promised that it wouldn’t have to change. He spoke in such calming and authoritative tones that Eve believed him. He had told her what she needed to hear and she had clung to those words. His work was flexible, he did it from the studio at home. They could make this work to everyone’s advantage. Sure, people make babies look difficult. But honestly, they’re both intelligent people, how hard could it be?

From the floor of the women’s bathroom at Eve’s office building, with Elena hovering anxiously outside, Eve and Niko had decided that this child-rearing thing wouldn’t be so hard after all.

As it happened, they were wrong.

And now, six years on, it seemed to Eve that Niko was reneging on his assurances. Was that fair of Eve though, to think of their argument like that? Niko wasn’t really saying he didn’t like the way their life was, that he didn’t enjoy his role as primary caregiver, that he didn’t want Eve to work. He merely implied that she could work _less_ , spend more time at home. And Eve found that idea… intolerable.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t love her son. It wasn’t that at all. She adored him. She was baffled by him. She was amused by him. She tried and she failed and she tried again. But through it all she loved him deeply. She couldn’t at this point imagine life without him in it. But at the same time she knew she wasn’t cut out to be the mum who bakes cupcakes for him to take to school on his birthday, she wasn’t going to be joining the PTA, or signing up to help out on field trips.

One day, she would be able to take her son out for dinner when she visits him at university and talk to him about his classes and his friends. They will be able to discuss books they’d both read. Books that don’t involve woodland creatures tracking down missing hats. Herself and Niko will host Leo and his girlfriend, or boyfriend, and try their hardest to not be embarrassing. They will probably fail, and even that will just become a funny story for the future.

It’s just that this stage, this part with the packed lunches and grazed knees, this wasn’t Eve’s strong suit. Right now, she was owning her career. And it was getting increasingly interesting.

Behind her, the toast made its appearance. Eve placed her wine glass down on the counter, and lowered Boots back to the ground. She plucked the toast out of the toaster, dropping it onto the breadboard before her fingers burned. She swiped her toast with a knife-load of butter and a cursory swish of Marmite before chewing on it dejectedly as Boots stalked a spider under the kitchen table.

There was nothing she could to do ease Niko’s frustration. She couldn’t change her work. She didn’t want to. And she wouldn’t. It meant too much. Leo was at school now anyway, it wasn’t as though Niko was changing diapers all day and sterilising bottles anymore. Eve had another swig of wine. Really, Niko was being unreasonable.

Eve’s mind had successfully turned back to her job. Back to her earlier appointment with Oksana Astankova. She was a little shit, no doubt. Eve felt herself smiling ruefully. It had felt good to provoke that response from the younger woman. It had felt good to prove her own theory about the importance of the father figure. Or, father figures, perhaps. The stepfather and the real father, both seemed pivotal, perhaps even linked in some way. Eve had expected one of those relationships to be of psychological importance, the other had been an intriguing surprise. And what about the mother? The woman who was certainly not a Parisian ballerina… Honestly, what a cliché. As if Eve was going to fall for that one. She was going to have to circle back to the mother.

The Dictaphone was in her bag still. Eve could replay their session in full; see if there was anything she had missed. Yes, that’s what she would do. She couldn’t exactly go up to bed. Niko would still be awake, and Eve didn’t fancy his hurt looks or his cold shoulder. She would listen to her tape, and she would do the dishes. That might at least earn a couple of brownie points.

Eve crammed the last bite of toast into her mouth and retrieved what she needed from her bag, setting it on the counter and skipping back to the beginning of the latest audio file. She hit play.

“You speak French?”

The sound of her own voice crackled out of the tiny speakers on the Dictaphone, tinny and loud, and Eve cringed. She had recorded her sessions since she first began having them, but she never got over her intense dislike for her own voice. It sounded so different to how she heard it in her head. She distracted herself by scrubbing at a saucepan loudly enough to cover the sound of herself asking Oksana another question.

“ _Mon pére est Russe._ ”

Eve scoffed. Such a silly little trick. Eve was used to her clients gaining confidence and trust in her over time, allowing their true personalities to rise to the surface. But Oksana hadn’t been nervous in the least. She was just playing. And she had, admittedly only briefly, fooled Eve. She had to give the other woman credit for that. It was a dirty tactic and it had worked for a while, but Oksana would have to work harder than that to keep Eve convinced.

The sound of Oksana’s iffy French accent filled the room again and Eve had an idea. Perhaps not something for their next session, but for a couple of weeks’ time, something that might just help to win this prickly individual over. She would have to run it past Bill. After all, a little bit of bribery goes a long way.

“Mum?” Came a small voice.

Eve span around to see Leo standing in the doorway, his hair sticking up at odd angles and his hand clinging onto the foreleg of his toy Lion.

“Hey Leo, what are you doing up?” Eve asked gently, surprised to see her son awake so late. He was normally a good sleeper.

“Bullshit.” Came Eve’s voice from the speakers of her Dictaphone.

“Ahhh…” Eve said loudly trying to cover up the word far too late. Leo had thrown a confused look at the little machine on the counter, but appeared not quite awake enough to fully take in the word he had just heard his mother’s voice use. Thankfully.

Eve slammed a soapy hand down on the Dictaphone hastily. She couldn’t remember quite what came next, but Oksana certainly had a filthy vocabulary and she didn’t want to risk exposing her son to it.  Eve crouched to the floor, opening her arms for Leo. He shuffled towards her and collapsed into them. Sniffing noisily in her ear.

“I thought it was Tata washing up.” He said, his voice muffled in her shoulder.

“No, sweetheart. It’s me. You couldn’t sleep?” Eve cooed.

Leo shook his head against her in response.

“You had a nightmare?” Eve asked.

There was a pause.

“A scary dream?” Eve tried again.

Leo nodded and Eve tightened her arms around him, rocking softly from side to side as she decided what to say next.

“Want me to come and stay with you until you go back to sleep?” Eve suggested.

“Yeah.” Leo agreed.

“Alright Mr, let’s go.” Eve said, hoisting herself and Leo up from the floor, ignoring the cracking of her knee joint as she did so.

He was too heavy for this now really but Eve navigated her way out of the kitchen, eyeing her unfinished glass of wine on the counter as she switched out the light with her elbow.

Eve carried Leo back up to his bedroom and pulled back the Paw Patrol duvet on his bed before lowering him into it. He kept his arms around her neck as she tried to straighten up, forcing her to lie down awkwardly next to him. She pulled the duvet back over the both of them. She knew the bed was made for a child, but really, it was ridiculously small.

“OK?” Eve whispered.

Leo nodded.

“Want to tell me what the scary dream was about?” She asked.

“I got sick in the swimming pool and they made me go to jail.” Leo whispered.

Eve considered that for a moment.

“Well, what do you think would actually happen if you got sick in the pool?” She asked, stroking his hair back from his eyes.

“Um… It would be gross.” Leo replied thoughtfully.

“It would definitely be gross.” Eve agreed. “But would you have to go to jail?”

Leo thought that through for a moment.

“No.” He shook his head.

“That’s right.” Eve said, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“And…” Leo started, “If they did make me go to jail then you would get me out!” he decided happily.

Eve laughed. She couldn’t go through that one with him again now.

“Go to sleep now, Leo. Or we’ll both be tired in the morning.” Eve said quietly.

“OK. Love you.” Leo said, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them again, “And dad.” He added.

“I love you too.” Eve replied.

“And dad?” Leo asked immediately, barely letting Eve finish her sentence.

“And dad.” Eve confirmed.


	7. Chapter 7

The monotony of getting herself from her car, through security and to the consultation room where her sessions with Oksana would continue to take place was oddly comforting to Eve. Her client remained unpredictable at this stage, but at least the lead up to their meeting was stable and repetitive.  
  
Bill hadn’t been there to meet her this time, not now she knew where she was going. Instead, the prison guards had simply eyed her ID badge and let her through the various buzzing security doors that barred her way. Eve reached the room and thanked the guard for letting her in before taking off her coat and hanging it over the back of her chosen chair. Today she had opted for a little black dress. Not a cocktail dress, of course, but something professional and yet more alluring than last week’s cropped trousers. She was exploring an inkling she had got the week before. Eve put her glasses on but left her hair down. She eyed the plastic plant on the low table in front of her sceptically. It had gathered more dust since the previous week, she mused. It probably hadn’t really, not a noticeable amount anyway, but still… it was tacky.

Eve was just in the middle of wondering whether she could replace the plant with a real one, whether if she watered it on her weekly visits it would survive, when the door buzzed and then opened.

Oksana Astankova entered. Gone was the timid shape of last week’s initial iteration of Oksana. Now she carried herself to her full height, looked directly at Eve as she rounded her chair and sat down promptly with the ghost of a smirk that Eve wasn’t sure she liked the look of.

Bill loitered in the doorway.

“Alright everybody?” He asked. “Dr Polastri, how are you?”

“Very well, thank-you Mr Pargrave.” Eve replied with a small smile. Using each other’s titles that way always made her feel as though they were merely playing at their jobs. It felt mildly ridiculous and she knew that Bill agreed.

“So glad to hear it, Dr.” He replied smoothly with a warm humour-filled smile.

Eve laughed quietly.

“Right. No fighting.” Bill said to the both of them, pointing a stern finger at each of them in turn.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Eve replied knowingly, “Right, Astankova?” she asked pointedly.

“Oh, we are going to have a lovely time.” Oksana replied, and it was hard to miss the undertone of a threat.

Bill raised his eyebrows at Eve and shrugged.

“See you in an hour.” He said sympathetically. And with that he left the room.

Eve cleared her throat and pulled a hair tie from her wrist, gathered her hair up in her hands and tied it back out of her face. She knew Oksana was watching closely, she could feel those eyes on her.

Suddenly Eve was reminded of a nature documentary she had fallen asleep to once. She remembered the scurrying form of a field mouse, illuminated by a night vision camera as it was going about its business, completely unaware that it was being watched by the bottomless black eyes of a barn owl. If Eve had to be the field mouse, she would at least choose to be aware.

“Are we onto chapter two of your book of basic psychology?” Oksana asked sweetly when Eve was finished with her hair. “Are you going to ask if I was abused as a child?”

“Were you?” Eve asked, feigning disinterest, as she pulled her Dictaphone from her bag and switched it on before placing it between them on the table.

“No.” said Oksana simply.

“Good for you.” Eve replied, leaning back in her chair.

Oksana barked out a laugh, cupping a hand to her ribs as they shook.

“That’s it? No follow up questions?” Oksana asked with an incredulous smile.

“Not currently. Why? Are you lying? Would you like me to push the matter until you break down and tell me the truth?” Eve suggested.

“No. That was the truth.” Oksana shrugged. “But you can test me if you like? We have a whole hour.”

“No thanks.” Eve replied. “I believe you.”

“You’re very trusting.” Oksana observed.

“Perhaps.” Eve said, “Or perhaps I have other plans for the session and would rather not indulge your suggestion.”

Oksana laughed again.  
  
“You are funny.” She pointed out. “What is your name?”

“Dr Polastri.” Eve said blankly without pausing for a beat.

Oksana growled.

“Why won’t you tell me?” she demanded.

“I work with convicted criminals. You, for example, are a convicted murderer. Do you think it would be wise for me to give out personal information to every convicted murderer I work with?” Eve asked lightly.

Oksana appeared to consider the question for a moment or two.

“No. Not _every_ convicted murderer. Just me.” she said at last.

This time Eve laughed. It was only a small chuckle, but she failed to keep it in.

“You’re special are you?” Eve asked with a smile.

“I am.” Oksana nodded confidently, “But also, I am not getting out of here. You are safe from me.”

“And what makes you say that?” Eve queried with interest.

“That I’m not getting out of here?” Oksana checked.

“That you’re not getting out of here, and that I am safe from you. You made two separate points, as if they are not connected. Why?” Said Eve.

Oksana blew out a slow, noisy breath of air before answering Eve’s question, as though her response may be too heavy for Eve to handle

“I am not getting out of here because nobody is going to recommend someone with psychopathic tendencies for parole.” Oksana said simply.

Eve hummed and looked at Oksana for a moment. The younger woman had schooled her face into a hard expression, one belonging to someone who had accepted her fate. And yet, in the eyes that stared resolutely back at Eve, there was something else, something a little lighter, a hint of possibility maybe, not quite hope… But something that hadn’t entirely given up yet. Something that threatened to pull Eve in.

Eve _could_ tell Oksana that she wouldn’t be the first person with psychopathic tendencies that Eve had recommended for parole. Or that she had yet to assess whether these psychopathic tendencies were even in existence. But for now, she would hold her cards to her chest.

Oksana was still watching her, still considering and anticipating Eve’s reaction. Eve surmised that the small, resilient, part of the other woman might want Eve to contradict her.

“And why am I safe from you?” Eve asked, choosing not to divulge any of her reflections on Oksana’s potential future at this stage.

She watched Oksana’s eyes flit away momentarily in frustration. Yes, she had been waiting for contradiction.

“I would not kill you like I killed that bastard.” Oksana said simply.

“Well, no.” Eve agreed. “I don’t have a penis, so you would struggle to cut it off.”

And Oksana smiled gleefully and clapped her hands together, rocking back in her chair before clasping one hand to her side.

“Struggle to cut it off!” Oksana said loudly, “That is so funny.” She hooted with laughter and shook her head.

It wasn’t quite the reaction Eve had anticipated. She waited for Oksana to regain composure, which she did, rather suddenly.

“I meant that I didn’t just kill him for fun. I am hardly some sort of serial killer, am I?” Oksana said with a stone cold expression that didn’t look for a moment as if it had been split by a wide smile just seconds earlier.

“But good to know you don’t have a penis.” Oksana shrugged and nodded.

Eve filed that one away.

“What about what you did after you mutilated him? Was that for fun?” Eve asked daringly.

Oksana’s face grew stormy.

“None of it was for fun.” She growled.

“So you killed for a specific reason? It was a reactionary event?” Eve prompted.

Oksana sighed and leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees and looked Eve dead in the eyes. If she had not made such strong eye contact with Eve then Eve would have missed the grimace of pain that flashed across Oksana’s features.

“What is your name?” Oksana said lowly.

“Are you in pain?” Eve replied.

The tone of this question was unlike Eve’s previous enquiries. There was immediate care and curiosity behind it. Apparently it mattered to this woman whether Oksana was hurting. Oksana’s brows lifted slightly, her gaze became less menacing.

“No.” Oksana said breezily.

“You grabbed your side earlier, and just now, when you leant forward it hurt, didn’t it?” Eve replied quietly.

“No.” Oksana repeated with a bit more force behind the word.

Eve kept her eyes on Oksana, kept her expression soft, trying to will Oksana to be honest with her for all the good it would do. Oksana diverted her attention and looked around the room instead, puffing out her cheeks and blowing a slow exhale. She glanced back at Eve and Eve narrowed her eyes at Oksana.

“Astankova, have you been injured?” Eve asked delicately.

“This is boring!” Oksana burst out angrily, crossing her arms across her chest petulantly. “What is the fucking point of all this? Hmm? We have these shit conversations for fucking months and then you say, ‘Yep, she’s a dangerous psychopath, lock her up for a load more years’?” she blazed.

Eve leant back in her chair and brought her hands together, interlocking her fingers.

“I think we should play a game.” Eve decided.

Oksana scoffed.

“I am not a child. I don’t want to play a fucking game with you.” Oksana spat.

“Do you feel as though you’re treated like a child? You said the same thing to Mr Pargrave last week.” Eve pointed out.

“I am not a child.” Oksana repeated resolutely.

“Unfortunately.” Eve muttered.

“What?” Oksana barked.

“It’s unfortunate you’re not a child.” Eve clarified. “If you were, then I wouldn’t be the one working with you and we could both avoid the trauma of these appointments.” She finished.

Oksana considered her for a moment and then smirked. Eve waited to see if she was going to respond, but she did not.

“And yet, here we are.” Said Eve, “So, shall we play a game or do you want to sit in silence for the remainder of the session?”

“What is your stupid game?” Oksana asked with exaggerated insolence.

“I get to ask you three questions.” Eve began, “You get to ask me three questions.” She finished. “We can both pass on one question.”

“That is not a game!” Oksana laughed, “That is a conversation.”

“They are yes or no questions.” Eve added, ignoring Oksana’s words. “So?”

“Fine.” Oksana huffed. “But I am going first.”

“OK.” Eve agreed. “Hit me.”

“Give me a minute.” Oksana requested.

Eve nodded and busied herself flicking through her notebook, mentally thinking through the rest of her day. She really needed to try harder to be home on time this evening. Tensions between herself and Niko had been high since their stand off a week ago. No more had been said about it, but Eve knew all too well that it was often what went unsaid that had the most importance. Perhaps they could do something nice as a family this weekend, maybe that would mend the wound a little bit. But where could they go? What would Leo enjoy? The zoo? He loved seeing the animals, especially the lions. But Eve couldn’t bear seeing those powerful creatures pacing uselessly in their cages. Maybe not the zoo…

“I am ready.”

Oksana’s decisive voice cut through Eve’s meandering thoughts.

“Go ahead,” Eve prompted, raising a hand. She really hoped she wasn’t about to regret this game. It was a dangerous suggestion, of course it was. God knows what sort of questions Eve was about to face, and with only one pass. But Oksana seemed surprisingly interested in Eve as a person, and she clearly wasn’t going to open up until they were on more even ground, that much was clear. So…

“Do you run?” Oksana asked.

Oh. That had been far from what Eve was expecting. Truth be told, she didn’t know what to expect, the whole game had been a bit of a gamble, but she would have been less startled by a more personal question.

The surprise clearly registered on Eve’s face, and Oksana looked at her imploringly.

“Well? Do you?” she asked again.

“Yes.” Eve said.

“Mmmhmm.” Oksana nodded and then added hastily, “That was not my second question, by the way, that ‘Do you?’ That was because you didn’t answer.”

“I got it, don’t worry. You still have two.” Eve reassured her. “Why did you ask that?” Eve asked curiously.

“That is not a yes or no question.” Oksana said haughtily.

Eve laughed.

“Fair enough.” She said, “OK, my turn.”

Oksana sat back in her chair, once again wincing slightly, and Eve’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you regret your crime?” Eve asked. She already knew the answer. Well, not in so many words, but she had strong suspicions. Still, the way Oksana answered might prove enlightening. It wasn’t just a person’s choice of words that opened up a window to their thoughts.

“No.” Oksana replied immediately, barely letting Eve finish her question, but inadvertently proving the point Eve had been making to herself.

“Do you think I’m a psychopath?” Oksana fired her second question at Eve before Eve had time to register the speed of Oksana’s answer.

“Pass.” Said Eve quickly. Now _that_ question, she had expected. She couldn’t answer it though. She genuinely didn’t know.

“Do _you_ think you’re a psychopath?” Eve shot back at her.

“Pass.” Spat Oksana.

She was being petty. Refusing to answer the question just because Eve had refused to answer it. The answer was no, and Oksana could have just said it. But if Eve was going to be withholding, then so would she. It was silly and rash though. Now she had used up her only pass.

“Do you masturbate?” Oksana asked with a smug grin. After all, Eve had used up her only pass as well. Oksana had considered asking this question first, but had held it back, deciding to start gently instead.

Eve opened her mouth and then closed it again. Yeah, this game had come back to bite her in the ass.

“Most people do.” Eve said at last. It was thinly veiled diplomacy. It was cheating. And Oksana knew it.

“A-ah!” Oksana cut in, shaking her finger at Eve. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Eve sighed. “Do you?”

“Is that your final question?” Oksana asked.

It would be a waste of a question. Eve knew that. But Oksana had put her in a vulnerable position and she didn’t like it. Still… Perhaps there were better ways to repay that little favour. 

“No.” Eve let out.

Oksana smiled.

“And what is your final question?” Oksana prompted.

What had pushed Oksana in the last hour? Eve wondered. What had made her loose her focus on messing with Eve? She had become angry at one point, and what had caused it?

“Are you in pain?” Eve asked at last.

Oksana glared at her. She had no passes left. She didn’t want to look weak in front of this woman but now she was cornered.

“Yes.” Oksana hissed.

Eve hummed.

“You really should get it seen to.” Eve said gently

“You’re a doctor!” Oksana exploded, “You want to look at it? It’s just below my tits. You could get a nice eyeful while you’re there.” She sneered.

“I’m not a medical doctor.” Eve said tightly.

“Bet you want to see my tits though.” Oksana smirked.

“Not particularly.” Eve replied.

“But a little bit?” Oksana suggested, holding up her fingers close together and squinting at Eve through the gap in them.

Eve sighed.  
  
“Why did you ask if I run?” Eve asked, steering the conversation away from Oksana’s chest, though she didn’t expect Oksana would answer her question. That would be too easy, too simple.

“You have nice legs.” Oksana shrugged. “They’re lean and muscular. Good shape.”

“Oh.” Eve let out, Oksana had side-stepped her expectations again. “Um. Thank-you.”

“You’re welcome.” Oksana said with a smile. “Does your husband like it when you masturbate for him?” she asked openly.

Eve choked a little on nothing and Oksana’s grin grew even wider.

“The game is over now.” Eve said flatly.

“I am asking just for me. It will give me something to think about.” Oksana explained.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate.” Eve said firmly.

“OK.” Oksana replied airily. “I don’t really masturbate, you know?” she added, “You said most people do. But I don’t. I have _a lot_ of sex though.” She fixed Eve with wide eyes, nodding slowly. “Loads of it.” She finished.

Eve hummed, trying to look as disinterested as possible.

“Does that surprise you?” Oksana asked.

“Not really.” Eve replied. “I have worked in prisons for a while. I know what goes on.”

“Well, now I have given you something to think about too, hmm?” Oksana said with a slow smile.

“Great.” Eve replied sarcastically.

“For when you are bored of your husband’s dick.” Oksana added.

“I got it, thanks.” Eve said stonily.

“You know, for next week, I have a better game we can play.” Oksana said, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs.

“Why am I not surprised?” Eve mumbled to herself, glancing at the wall behind Oksana’s head and checking the clock. Bill would be back any minute. This session had slipped out of Eve’s grasp a little bit. She was off her game and she had let Oksana have the upper hand.

“What was that?” Oksana asked loudly. It seemed she didn’t appreciate it when Eve didn’t address her directly.

“What is your game?” Eve asked, dreading the answer.

“Next week, we get to _guess_ three things about each other, and then for each one we get right we can earn an extra guess.” Oksana explained with an undisguised hint of excitement in her voice.

Eve thought about that. It was a good game.

“It’s a good game, yes?” Oksana added, “Better than your shitty game.”

Eve gave a tight-lipped smile. Oksana was right and they both knew it. Eve had dropped the ball today.

“Don’t have children, Dr Polastri,” Oksana laughed, holding her side, “You are bad at games. Really bad.”

Eve felt her breath catch, and she cleared her throat. It seemed that Oksana may not be as good at guessing games as she thought she was. She had gone ahead and assumed that Eve had no children and Eve decided not to examine why that might be.

“OK.” Eve agreed. “Next week, we will give your game a try.”

“I shall spend my week thinking of you.” Oksana said sweetly if ominously, “and come up with lots of good guesses.” She clarified.

“You do that.” Eve nodded, sliding her glasses off her nose and placing them on the table. “But you’ll only get three.” Eve warned.  
  
Oksana smiled widely at that. It seemed she enjoyed a challenge as much as Eve.  
  
Eve held their eye contact and reached up to untie her hair. The smile had slipped from her face but Oksana’s eyes were focused on Eve as the door buzzed and Bill entered the room. Eve left her hair as it was and watched Oksana from the corner of her eye as she slumped somewhat in her chair. One hand went to her side once more and the other to her mouth where she bit at the skin next to her thumb.

“Any scratches or bites that need seeing to?” Bill asked as he entered the room.

“Not this week.” Eve replied.

“Great.” Bill said, giving them both a rather dorky double thumbs up.

Oksana scoffed and looked away, catching Eve’s eye just as Eve shook her head in embarrassment for Bill. Oksana smiled knowingly at her. Progress.

“Alright, let’s go.” Bill said, holding an arm out to guide Oksana out of the door.

“Ah Bill!” Eve let out, stopping him just before he turned to follow Oksana from the room. Eve realised a second too late that she had used his first name.

Eve shot him an apologetic look but he shrugged it off, clearly not worried about the loss of formalities. Eve got up and crossed the room to him, leaning in close.

“She needs to see a doctor.” Eve said lowly next to Bill’s ear. Her eyes meeting Oksana’s frowning face as she tried to figure out what Eve was saying.

Bill looked at her in confusion and Eve pointed to her own side and widened her eyes.

“Ah.” Bill let out, “We’re just on our way there now.” He said calmly, patting a hand on Eve’s shoulder.

Over Bill’s shoulder Eve saw Oksana’s look of confusion morph into a furious glare as the door closed between them. Eve sighed. She probably could have ended that session on a better note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! Comments give me life


	8. Chapter 8

Oksana was furious. How dare Dr Polastri get involved like that? How dare she tell Pargrave that Oksana needed to see a doctor? Oksana was fine. And she wouldn’t be seeing the medic now that was for certain. Not after Dr Polastri started meddling. Oksana had thought they were getting somewhere. The past hour had been the most fun she’d had in months, _years_ probably. Dr Polastri’s shit game had amused Oksana to no end and she had found herself warming considerably to the other woman. Dr Polastri was sarcastic and funny and there was a certain something about her that had awoken parts of Oksana that had become so used to being dormant that Oksana had almost forgotten about them.  
  
When she had asked Dr Polastri her final question, Oksana had felt a trill of excitement rush through her at the thought of it. The good doctor with her glasses and her spotless outfits, her silly little notebook and her no-nonsense attitude, getting herself off. Her hair would be wild and untamed, her face flushed… She might even allow herself to swear. Yeah, Oksana enjoyed that thought a great deal. That was very nice.  
  
But she had pushed. She had zeroed in on Oksana’s weakness. The almost literal thorn in her side. This fucking wound that refused to heal. Dr Polastri had sniffed it out and swirled a finger in it viciously, reminding Oksana of the now constant pain thrumming below her ribs. Dr Polastri had made it sound as if she _cared_ and for a blind second Oksana felt a bloom of warmth at the thought. It had been such a long time since someone cared about her like that. People cared. Of course. Her father cared and Konstantin cared. They wanted her to flourish. They would annihilate anyone who posed a threat to Oksana’s life. But they didn’t look at her like that. Their eyes didn’t flit about her features, trying to assess how she felt. They couldn’t tell when she was in pain. They cared. But their affection was shown through gifts. They were not the sort to have ever held her if she needed it. She hadn’t been held since she was a small child. That bastard had tried once and Oksana’s stomach turned at the sudden memory of it. She felt queasy.  
  
Earlier, Oksana’s mind had played a trick on her. She had seen Dr Polastri’s look of concern over Oksana’s injury and she had been reminded of the last person to look at her like that. That person would hold her arms open to Oksana, would wrap her up in unconditional tenderness and tell her everything would be alright. That had turned out to be a lie though. That tenderness had not been unconditional and everything had been far from alright. Dr Polastri, did not care about Oksana’s wellbeing. She was just doing her job. Oksana was a case file, not a cause for concern.  
  
Why hadn’t Oksana just lied? When Dr Polastri had asked if she was in pain, Oksana could have lied. It didn’t occur to her to lie. Lying came almost as naturally as breathing, and yet Oksana had choked. She’d told the truth as though she had no other choice. What was wrong with her?

“I’m not going to the medic.” Oksana said determinedly.

Mr Pargrave sighed heavily. They were once again making the journey from the consultation room where Dr Polastri was presumably packing her bag and readying herself to leave, to the little room that was occupied by the sweaty medic. Oksana wondered if Eve was at this moment letting her hair down again. She could have punched Pargrave for returning just when he did.

“Do we have to have this fight every single time?” Mr Pargrave asked.

“No.” Oksana replied, “Because I am not going anymore, _Bill._ My wound is fine now.”

“If your wound is fine, then why did Dr Polastri seem to think you need medical attention?” Mr Pargrave asked.

“Because she is bored and likes to make trouble?” Oksana suggested.

Mr Pargrave laughed.

“That does not sound like the Dr Polastri I know.” He said.

“How well do you know her?” Oksana asked curiously. “Can I call you Bill?”

“No, you cannot.” Mr Pargrave said with a smile, “And I have known her for years.”

“Have you ever fucked her?” Oksana asked nonchalantly.

Mr Pargrave stopped walking.

“Do you want to rethink that question?” He asked warningly.

“Um… Have you ever screwed her? I know she’s married, but still… That doesn’t stop people from fucking others, you know...” Oksana trailed off with a leering quirk of her eyebrow. 

Mr Pargrave shook his head despairingly.

“You know, if anyone is bored and likes to cause trouble, it isn’t Dr Polastri.” He said meaningfully.

Oksana grinned at him innocently.

“I’m not going to the medic.” She reiterated. “I’m fine. I just want to have a sleep. Is that OK?” Oksana asked politely.

Mr Pargrave eyed her suspiciously for a moment. She did look quite tired under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway.

And it was true. Oksana did feel tired. She felt tired and overly warm. She was probably getting some kind of illness. One of the myriad problems with residing in a populous prison was that when a bug entered the building, it spread fast. Oksana had been fighting off a drowsy feeling since the day before. It had faded into the background whilst she was with Dr Polastri, but now it was creeping back in at the edges. And she was hot, her forehead felt a little clammy.

“You’re not just taking the piss?” Mr Pargrave asked seriously, “Your wound isn’t causing you any bother?”

“Nope.” Oksana said shaking her head and popping the P at the end of the word. “I’m just sleepy. I read a lot last night.” She explained with a yawn.

“Well, OK.” Mr Pargrave agreed. “But if it stops healing then we’re going straight back to the medic.” He said emphatically.

“Agreed.” Oksana said with a solemn nod. The action made her feel a little dizzy. “I will tell you immediately if it gets bad again.” She promised sweetly.

“Alright,” Mr Pargrave sighed, “let’s go.”

Internally Oksana allowed herself to feel victorious. Dr Polastri had tried to meddle and failed. Oksana wouldn’t be going to the doctor. That would teach the other woman for trying to tell her what to do. That would teach her for pretending she gave a shit about Oksana. Now, Oksana was going to have a well-earned nap and then she would start planning her guesses for next week’s game. Oh, and she still needed to finish her reply to Konstantin. A nap first though. Definitely.

 

 

A few days had passed since Eve’s most recent appointment with Oksana. She had played the tape over several times, she had heard herself allow Oksana to take charge of their discussion, had listened to the younger woman back her into a conversational corner until she was forced to answer that highly personal question. What had Eve been thinking? She had let that happen. She had suggested the game. She gave Oksana a free pass to her personal life. It was so unlike Eve. But still, it had been a stressful week.

Currently Eve found herself at Soft Play. She should be at the office, compiling her final report on an inmate. Instead she was at an indoor play area for children who were below a certain height on a cartoon giraffe’s neck. This had been a gesture of goodwill. An olive branch for Niko. A sign that she was able to choose her family over her work.

Eve had collected Leo from school. She had talked for at least seven minutes with one of the other mothers at the school gate and had only remembered her name after herself and Leo got in the car and drove away. Actually that wasn’t true. Eve still didn’t remember the woman’s name. She remembered that she was ‘Isabel’s Mum’ as those were the monikers that parents knew each other by. She supposed that made her ‘Leo’s mum.’ Eve should be used to people not knowing her first name, but that title felt somehow more uncomfortable than Dr Polastri.

And so here Eve was, in a small converted warehouse full of brightly coloured inflatable obstacles contained within padded pillars and netting, surrounded by a ball pit moat. Happily, this was not the sort of activity that parents were encouraged to participate in. Less happily, the whole place smelled strongly of feet and the coffee was shit. But Leo was thrilled by the excursion with his mother. And Eve could make some notes on Oksana’s case whilst periodically waving at her son from her spot at a red plastic seating area that was only mildly sticky.

She took a sip of her coffee and regretted it. Eve absent-mindedly wished she had her Dictaphone with her so she could play the tape again, but it was in the car. It wouldn’t be all that responsible to nip out and retrieve it. Notes would have to do. She still didn’t feel as though she had much of a grasp on Oksana Astankova, so Eve set about considering the observations she had made. Oksana was playful. She was volatile. She showed no remorse, and yet she claimed she had committed her crime for a purpose. Eve got the impression that Oksana felt she had been enacting justice when she had… done that. Oksana thought very highly of herself. _“No. Not every convicted murderer. Just me.”_ She was rash, she passed on a question out of spite. She assumed Eve had no children.

“MUM!” 

Eve looked up from her notes.

“Look!”

Leo was hanging onto a knotted rope, perched on a padded shelf and evidently preparing to fling himself into the pit of brightly coloured plastic balls beneath.

“MUM, WATCH!” He yelled.

Eve nodded enthusiastically at him and waved. She wasn’t going to yell back across the room.

“ARE YOU WATCHING?” Leo shouted again.

Eve glanced around her.

“Yeah, I can see you, sweetheart!” She called back, not quite matching her son’s boisterous volume.

Leo grinned and used his sock-clad feet to propel himself from the shelf, swinging on the rope before letting go and dropping into the ball pit, sending plastic balls scattering every which way. Eve thanked God for the net mesh that kept those things contained. Leo’s head and shoulders emerged from the pit.

“DID YOU SEE?” He yelled at Eve.

“I saw!” Eve called back, “That was great.” She added nodding exaggeratedly so that he could see.

“I’M GOING TO DO IT AGAIN!” Leo yelled and then stood up to start wading his way out of the balls.

Eve waved at Leo again until he was out of sight. Apparently he had to complete the obstacle course again to find himself back at the rope swing. Eve’s attention returned to her notes.

Did Oksana seem capable of empathy? Eve couldn’t answer that. There hadn’t  been any sign of it so far. But Eve had hardly asked any questions that might lead her to be able to answer that one. Eve would love to see Rebecca’s notes on Oksana, they would probably be hilarious. She couldn’t imagine how their sessions had gone, but with every second spent with Oksana, Eve was less and less surprised that Rebecca had been reduced to tears. Oksana knew what she was doing. Most of the time. That injury was worrying though, there was definitely something going on there. Oksana’s reluctance to show weakness was typical of someone with an inflated ego. But that alone didn’t make her a—

“He’s adorable.”

Eve looked up from her notes in confusion. There was a woman standing beside her. She was younger than Eve and had a friendly, approachable look about her.

“Sorry?” Eve asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Your son,” the woman laughed, “He’s adorable.”

Eve glanced quickly back up to where Leo had leapt onto the rope swing, but he wasn’t there. She looked back at the woman.

“Oh, thanks.” Eve said. “Yeah, he’s… that’s Leo.” She added uselessly.

“Do you mind if I sit?” The woman asked.

Eve shot a look around at the other tables in the red, plastic seating area. Plenty of them were vacant. This woman could certainly find a table to sit at by herself. Why did she want to sit with Eve? Jesus. Was this woman hitting on her?

“Sure.” Said Eve uncertainly. What was this about? Did this woman like the look of Eve and want to share a cup of awful coffee with her? Eve didn’t have time for unsolicited flirting from women in children’s play areas, even if said woman was more than quite attractive.

“Thanks.” The woman sighed. “I’m Jennifer.” She added as she sat opposite Eve.

“I’m working.” Eve replied and then her eyes widened. “Sorry!” she gasped, “That was rude. I mean, I’m Eve. My name is Eve… and I’m working.”

To Eve’s relief the woman just laughed lightly. 

“I see that, Eve. Don’t worry, I won’t disturb. I just wanted to be a bit closer so I could keep an eye on the kids.” Jennifer explained.

“Oh.” Eve replied, taken aback. “That’s… Yeah, good idea. Got to, you know, make sure they’re… alright.”

“Exactly.” Jennifer replied with a conciliatory smile. “You’re a mum. You get it.”

“Of course.” Eve replied quickly.

Jennifer looked at Eve for a moment and then glanced at Eve’s notebook, before looking at her once more.

“Seriously. Carry on.” Jennifer said encouragingly.

“Right. Thanks.” Eve smiled and picked up her pen. She wrote ‘ _doesn’t masturbate_ ’ on a new line before circling it.

Jennifer cleared her throat and Eve looked up just in time to see Jennifer’s gaze flicking away from Eve’s notebook and back to the obstacle course. Eve returned to her notes and added, ‘ _lots of sex. Bullshit?_ ’

“MUM!”

Eve dropped her pen and sighed before looking up at the padded shelf where Leo was perched again.

“I see you, Leo.” She called.

Leo nodded and swung himself off the shelf with gusto before dropping out of sight into the ball pit once more. Again, his head and shoulders emerged.

“DID YOU SEE?” He practically screamed, prompting amused laughter from Jennifer.

“I saw. You’re so good at that!” Eve said self-consciously.

“YEP!” Leo shouted proudly.

Eve chuckled. She was surrounded by egos.

Just then Eve’s phone buzzed on the table next to her notebook, she squinted at the caller ID and was surprised to see the number of the prison that held Oksana. Eve found herself answering the call at once.

“Dr Polastri.” She said authoritatively.

“Eve, hi. It’s Bill.” Came a familiar voice. Eve felt herself relax, but not entirely

“Oh hey, Bill. Everything OK?” Eve asked cautiously.

“Yes, fine. Fine. Well, not quite fine. I’m just calling to say you don’t need to come in this week.” Bill said conversationally.

“I don’t need to… why?” Eve was confused.

“Astankova is in the hospital bay.” Bill explained quickly.  
  
Eve felt her chest clench. That was an odd reaction, but she could examine that later. Or not.

“What? Why is she there?” Eve asked in a hurry. She listened as Bill cleared his throat and paused.

“There was a slight… stabbing incident a couple of weeks ago. She said everything was fine, that she was healing nicely. But… It got infected. She collapsed yesterday in the library.” Bill recounted hesitantly.

If Eve had to guess, she would say that Bill was feeling a little guilty for this development. Eve couldn’t blame him. She had told him Oksana needed to see a doctor. Why did he think she would have said that? For a little light entertainment?

“A _slight_ stabbing? What does that mean?” Eve asked, unable to disguise the level of emotion she found herself experiencing. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jennifer turn sharply to look at her. 

“It was only a plastic spoon, Eve. More of a deep cut than a, you know, stab wound.” Bill explained. Eve wasn’t sure whom he was trying to convince.

“MUM!”

Eve looked up to see Leo yet again at the rope swing. She nodded and waved at him.

“Is this why she was in pain last week? How did the doctor miss an infection?” Eve asked into the phone. And why hadn’t Oksana mentioned getting stabbed to Eve? Was that not the sort of thing they might discuss? Apparently not.

“She didn’t see a doctor last week. She said it was fine.” Bill reiterated. Eve was stunned.

“MUM! WATCH!!” Leo yelled. Eve sent a more exaggerated wave his way. She was aware of Jennifer’s eyes flitting between Eve and Leo. Eve felt her irritation levels rising.

“Excuse me?” Eve hissed into the phone, “She didn’t see a… Of course she said it was fine! She has an ego the size of fucking Russia!”

Jennifer coughed loudly and Eve lost her battle against rolling her eyes, but did turn away from Jennifer.

“Eve! Calm down. Why are you so worked up? She’s on antibiotics. She’ll be fine. But not in time for your appointment this week.” Bill said, speaking calmly as though trying to impart that level of calm to Eve through the phone.

“I want to see her anyway.” Eve said stubbornly.

“Why?” Bill asked curiously. And Eve… didn’t have an answer for him.

“I’ll come to the hospital bay.” She said, ignoring his question.

“She’s not particularly pleasant at the moment.” Bill warned.

“I can imagine. But still, I will come in tomorrow, OK?”

“MUM!! YOU DIDN’T WATCH!” Leo shouted from the ball pit.  
  
Eve glanced up at him. He was right. She hadn’t watched.

“You did great, honey! You’re like a spider monkey.” Jennifer called to Leo. Eve’s eyes locked on her.

“Tomorrow? Well, OK. But Eve, you really don’t need to.” Bill was saying into the phone.

“See you tomorrow.” Eve muttered back to him.

“See you—”

Eve hung up. Her eyes still on Jennifer, who now shifted a little under Eve’s gaze.

“Sorry for jumping in there. It must be so hard to juggle being a mum when you have work to do.” Jennifer said sympathetically. “It sounds like your job is… intense.”

“You don’t work?” Eve asked.

“I couldn’t possibly. Little ones take up so much time, don’t they?” Jennifer simpered.

“Sure.” Eve remarked and then began gathering her notebook into her bag and slipping into her coat.

“Leo!” Eve called, “Time to go.”

She could see Leo’s shoulders slump in disappointment all the way from where she was standing. But he dutifully stood and traipsed towards the exit of the soft play area, grabbing his trainers from the shoe pile and as he did so.

“We only just got here.” Leo grumbled as he reached Eve.

“We’ve been here an hour,” Eve pointed out, ruffling his hair. He shrugged away from her hand. “We need to make a stop in town on the way home, OK? We can get ice cream while we’re there.” She promised.

Leo’s frown dissipated.

“What are we getting in town?” He asked.

“Something for my new client. She’s not feeling so good.” Eve said vaguely as she stooped to tie Leo’s laces. He could do it himself now, but it was much quicker if Eve got involved.

“Ice cream for her?” Leo asked.

“No.” Eve laughed, “Not ice cream.”

“But ice cream for us?” Leo double-checked, his tone deadly serious.  
  
“Do spider monkeys eat ice cream?” Eve asked dubiously.

“Um….” Leo dragged out, clearly thinking hard on this question. “Yep!” He declared.

Eve chuckled, and put her hand on Leo’s shoulder to guide him towards the exit. They needed to hurry now to make it to the shops before they closed. It was only half way through their impromptu shopping trip that Eve remembered she had meant to start her draft report on someone else that afternoon rather than add to her notes on Oksana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, they didn't interact in this chapter. But they will in the next two, you have my word. 
> 
> Thank-you for reading. Feedback is food :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was steadily snowballing towards being 4,000 words long, so I decided to split it. Here's Part One of the hospital visit. Enjoy!

Collapsing in the library had not been her most shining achievement, that was for sure. How embarrassing to have the prison librarian find her sweaty and twitching body in the reference section. Too weak and dizzy to haul herself to her feet again, she was a disappointment to herself. Astankovas aren’t brought down by a little infection; it takes bullets, rounds of them, to bring an Astankova to their knees. She knew that for a fact. Oksana was thankful her father would hear of this. She certainly wouldn’t be detailing this particular adventure in her letter to Konstantin when she was finally released back to her cell.  
  
For now she was in the hospital bay. And she had been right in what she told the medic; one of the nurses was hot, but not hot enough to make this experience enjoyable. It was as though she was restrained. Often, in her cell, Oksana felt trapped, but that was nothing to being hooked up to an IV, pumping antibiotics into her. She couldn’t move if she wanted to. It was like being bound to the bed. And that would not be her preferred position. She had been here for nearly two days and she was barely beginning to feel better. All she could do was sleep. She wasn’t sleeping at the moment, but her eyes were closed and she could feel herself slipping back into the comfort of unconsciousness once more. Slumber hadn’t felt far away since she had been brought here. If she had been more awake, she might have guessed some of the pills she had been given were sedatives.

“I think she’s sleeping, Mr Pargrave.”

A hushed tone from the other side of the thin blue curtain that surrounded her bed pulled Oksana back from the precipice of sleep. She kept her eyes closed, listening. What was Pargrave doing here?  
  
“She has a visitor.”

Oksana’s eyes opened at that. A visitor? Oksana hadn’t had a visitor in eight years, as Pargrave well knew.  For the smallest flicker of a moment, Oksana imagined her father at her bedside, with a bouquet of flowers and those chocolates she adored from that specific chocolatier in St Petersburg. But that couldn’t be. Oksana must be delirious if she actually thought her father was in the room. And even more delirious still to think she would be anything other than ashamed for him to see her right now. Who then? Surely they weren’t going to let inmates visit her here? They were stupid, but not that stupid.

“Oh, OK. Well, I guess you can wake her up if you have to.”

That was the hot nurse, the one with the full lips and nicely shaped arse. She must be finishing her shift soon.  
  
“Thanks.”

The curtain around the bed twitched before the figure of Pargrave pulled a gap in it, scraping its metal rings along the rail.

“You’re awake after all.” He said as he entered, “And how’s the patient feeling?” he asked kindly.

Oksana glowered at him.

“I feel fantastic. Top of the world. Never fucking better.” She huffed. “Are you the visitor? If you are then I would rather go back to sleep.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you too, Astankova.” Mr Pargrave replied. “And no, I am not your visitor.”

Then he said something more quietly that Oksana couldn’t hear. She was about to demand that he speak up, when he said something else.

“Doctor?” He called over his shoulder.

“I have already seen the doctor!” Oksana exclaimed, leaning up slightly.

The muscles in her stomach tightened as she exerted herself and the throbbing heat in her wound spread outwards. She let herself drop back onto the bed with a grunt through clenched teeth.

The curtain opened yet again and Dr Polastri walked into the enclosed space. In her hand was a bunch of bright yellow daffodils. She wore a smart, grey, collared woollen coat with perfectly fitted shoulders. From beneath the coat, Oksana could see sheer tights and heeled black Chelsea boots.

Oksana was taken aback. She watched as Pargrave placed a hand on Dr Polastri’s shoulder before shuffling back to the other side of the curtain and leaving the two of them alone. What was she doing here?

“Hello Astankova,” Eve said politely. “Mr Pargrave told me you weren’t feeling too well.”

“I’m fine.” Oksana replied immediately.

Eve smiled.

“Yes. When I’m fine, I almost always spend my days in a hospital bed.” Eve said conversationally.

Oksana rolled her eyes and didn’t reply. She was slumped down in the bed and she felt particularly exposed in her hospital gown beneath the thin sheet.

Eve looked around the small space. There was no chair for her to sit in, but she sensed the other woman would not appreciate Eve looming over her. Though Eve rarely had the chance to loom over anyone.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Eve asked politely, gesturing to the edge of Oksana’s bed.

Oksana shrugged and looked away.

“Thank-you.” Said Eve, “We don’t have to talk about why you’re here. I just thought you might appreciate some company.”

“Our appointments are on Thursdays.” Oksana pointed out as though it was relevant to what Eve had just said.

“This isn’t an appointment.” Eve replied evenly.

“Then what are you doing here?” Oksana demanded suspiciously.

“I just told you why I’m here.” Eve explained.

“I don’t want a visitor.” Oksana grumbled.

“Oh.” Eve said simply, “OK then. Well, I will leave these with the nurse and I’ll see you next Thursday if you’re feeling up to it.”

Eve stood from the bed and hoisted her bag over her shoulder before making her way back the way she had come. Oksana turned to look at her and sighed. It wasn’t as though she had anything better to do stuck in here.

“Fine.” Oksana called. “You can stay. But I don’t like daffodils.”

“Why not?” Eve asked, still not returning to the bed.

“They are garish.” Oksana explained with a sneer.

Eve laughed.

“They’re bright and happy. They’re meant to make you feel better.” She replied.

Oksana narrowed her eyes at the daffodils in Eve’s hand for a moment, focusing intensely on them. Then her eyes flicked up to meet Eve’s.  
  
“Oh yes. I feel fine now. They worked.” She said scathingly.

“I thought you were already fine.” Eve countered with a smile.

“Good one.” Oksana muttered, and then struggled to shift on the bed. “Help me sit up.” She demanded.

Eve looked suddenly unsure of herself.

“I’ll get the nurse. I don’t want to hurt you.” She let out, taking another step towards the curtain.

“You won’t hurt me!” Oksana hissed, “I am not a fucking china doll. Just help me up. Unless you’re scared that _I_ will hurt _you._ ”

Jesus, Bill hadn’t been kidding. An unwell Oksana was a particularly prickly customer.

“OK, OK,” Eve agreed, shrugging off her bag and coat and piling them on the end of Oksana’s bed before stepping to where she was level with Oksana’s head.

Oksana watched as Eve dithered a little, reaching a hand out for Oksana’s shoulder and then retracting it again and fidgeting on the spot. Oksana rolled her eyes.

“Put your arm behind my shoulders.” Oksana instructed, leaning forward with clenched teeth.

Eve did as she was told and Oksana let her weight rest on Eve’s arm a little.

“And the other under my arm.” Oksana continued.

For this movement, Eve had to lean across Oksana and Oksana couldn’t help but inhale the scent of Eve’s perfume. It was light, floral, but not sweet. Oksana approved of it. She could feel the softness of Eve’s cashmere sweater on her exposed skin where the hospital gown did not cover her back.

“Now what?” Eve asked, her voice startlingly close to Oksana’s ear and snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Now help me sit up, obviously.” Oksana said, using Eve as leverage to shuffle herself back in the bed. It hurt, but she wouldn’t entertain a visitor while lying prone in her bed.

“OK.” Oksana gasped when she was in a better position. Her inward breath brought with it another nose full of Eve’s scent. It was a soothing aroma and Oksana would commit it to memory.

“You can get off me now.” Oksana said scratchily.

“Wait.” Eve replied hurriedly.

The arm that had been across the front of Oksana was gone, but Eve’s other arm still provided support behind her. Oksana’s stomach stung whilst she held herself in position. Eve was fluffing up the single pillow against the metal bedstead.

“OK.” Eve agreed and let Oksana’s back lower to the pillow. Eve straightened up and looked at Oksana. “Better?” she asked with a smile.

“You smell good.” Oksana let out as Eve smoothed out her skirt unnecessarily and perched again on the edge of Oksana’s bed.  
  
“Um. Thanks?” Eve asked, though she wasn’t sure why it was a question. That would be quite a nice compliment, if it weren’t coming from someone capable of bodily mutilation and… Well.

“You’re welcome?” Oksana replied, matching Eve’s questioning tone mockingly. “Did your husband buy you that perfume?”

Eve failed to hold back the laugh.

“Jesus. No.” she shook her head. “He only tried that once, and it was a hideous scent.”  
  
Oksana smiled.

“So he never tried again?” she asked.

“No, thank God.” Eve replied.

“That is bad.” Oksana decided. “I never had someone to buy perfume for. But if I did, then I would get it right. I would know what she would like.” She added decisively, but almost as though she was talking to herself rather than Eve.

One of Eve’s suspicions was finally confirmed.

“Sounds like you would make someone a very good partner then.” Eve said kindly.

“I would.” Oksana agreed readily.

Eve nodded. Suddenly she wasn’t quite sure how she expected this interaction to go. What was she supposed to say now? She had been on autopilot since Bill’s phone call the evening before, but she hadn’t actually thought about what would happen when she paid Oksana a visit.

“Do you want to play your guessing game?” Eve asked.

“You said this was not an appointment.” Oksana replied.

“Well, it’s not. But we could play it if you like.” Eve reasoned. That would at least give them something to talk about.

Oksana appeared to mull this over.

“If it is not an appointment, then you are not currently being Dr Polastri.” Oksana started and Eve knew where this was going, “So you can tell me your name.” She finished, and Eve was correct.  
  
“Hmmm….” Eve hummed, pretending to think about the response that was already on the tip of her tongue. “Nope.”

Oksana growled and pressed her shoulders back into the thin pillow, before grimacing.

“It still hurts that badly?” Eve asked automatically.

“Of course it fucking hurts! It’s infected.” Oksana shot back.

“Well, I did say you should see the doctor last week.” Eve murmured.

“Don’t mumble at me.” Oksana snapped. “I am already angry with you for saying that shit to Pargrave.”

Eve had the feeling of being scolded like a child. She hadn’t felt like that since… Well, since she was a child.

“For telling him that you were in pain?” Eve checked.

“For fucking meddling. For acting like you give a shit.” Oksana said. She was raising her voice and Eve was painfully aware of the young nurse who would doubtlessly hear what Oksana was saying to her.

“I do give a shit.” Eve said quietly and then realised she probably shouldn’t stoop to using the same language as Oksana. “I mean, I do care. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“To fucking gloat probably.” Oksana huffed and lifted her hand to her mouth, before chewing on the skin next to her thumb. It looked sore, Eve noticed, the skin around the nail was ragged.

“Don’t do that.” Eve said gently, lifting a hand to Oksana’s and touching the back of it softly before she even realised what she was doing.

Oksana's mouth stopped working at her thumb, but it remained between her teeth as her eyes fixed on Eve. Eve pulled her hand back quickly as though Oksana may decide to bite _her_ instead. 

“Sorry.” Eve said quickly, “Just, it looks sore.” She added.

Oksana dropped her hand back to the bed next to her thigh but kept her eyes on Eve.

“Do you visit all your clients in hospital?” She asked curiously.  
  
“Only the ones who get stabbed with plastic spoons.” Eve replied, holding Oksana’s gaze resolutely, though every part of her wanted to look away.

Oksana let out a laugh.

“It is because I wouldn’t fuck her, you know? That’s why she did it.” Oksana explained in a tone of complete amusement.

“I heard it was because you told her she was fat.” Eve intoned with a knowing smile.

Oksana’s smile widened in return.

“Well, she is very big.” She said, blowing out her cheeks.

Eve chuckled and shook her head.

“Maybe next time just politely turn her down? That way you could avoid another trip to the hospital bay?” Eve suggested lightly.

“But then I won’t get any daffodils.” Oksana replied in mock outrage, “Plus, have you seen the nurse here? I would fuck her if she asked for sure.” She added.

Eve cleared her throat and shifted a little where she was perched on the side of the bed.

“Uh oh,” Oksana smiled dangerously, “Are you uncomfortable talking about sex?” she asked gleefully.

“Of course not,” Eve replied, “a great deal of my job is doing exactly that.”

That was true. With the amount of flashers and rapists and paedophiles that Eve worked with, it wasn’t as though this was a topic that she rarely had to raise.

“What is it then? You are jealous?” Oksana asked as though taking pity on Eve, “I would fuck you too, you know.” she added.

“I’m beginning to get the impression that there’s not a great deal that you wouldn’t fuck.” Eve replied sardonically, “So I’m not sure being on the list is that much of a compliment.”

Inwardly Eve was congratulating herself for that entirely unfazed response. In reality her stomach had performed some badly choreographed backflip at Oksana’s words. Jesus. She knew it had been a while since her and Niko had found time to have sex, but surely she wasn’t that desperate. Now Oksana was watching her with that self-assured smile that made Eve feel as though she could read her thoughts. This was all going wrong again. Eve was supposed to be the one putting Oksana’s thoughts under a microscope, not the other way around. 

“I have a guess.” Oksana declared needlessly loudly. 

Oh God. This was unlikely to be helpful in putting Eve back in control.

“Go on then,” Eve sighed.

“You have never been with another woman.” Oksana announced assuredly.

Eve hummed.  
  
“What did you say the rules were?” She asked.

“I get three guesses. For each one I get right, I win another guess.” Oksana explained monotonously, as though Eve should have remembered that. But Eve had remembered that. And now it was time to turn the tables back on Oksana.

“So you have two guesses left.” Eve replied nonchalantly.

“What?” Oksana burst out, her eyes widened dramatically. “I don’t believe you! You have not.”

If there was a heart monitor attached to Oksana, Eve was sure she would be able to see a spike in the rate of the other woman’s pulse right now.

“You better guess more carefully with your next two.” Eve suggested, borrowing Oksana’s smug smile.  
  
“I bet you were just experimenting in college. That doesn’t count.” Oksana said sulkily.

Eve didn’t reply. Oksana’s bet was as good as her guess in that it was stone cold incorrect, but Eve didn’t need to offer up that detail as well. She was already being reckless with her personal information here, not to mention unprofessional. But like she said, this was not an appointment.

“You can save your guesses for next week if you can’t think of any,” said Eve generously.  
  
Oksana’s eyes darkened.

“I haven’t had time to think properly.” Oksana complained. “I don’t know if you have noticed but I have had a bit of a shit week.”  
  
Eve was tempted to say that Oksana may have had a considerably less shit week if she had visited a doctor after their last appointment, but she suspected that might enrage her and Eve was now reluctant to see Oksana pop a stitch.

“Sorry,” Eve relented, “We can save the game for next time. You can keep your two guesses.”

“I still don’t believe you have been with a woman.” Oksana huffed.

“Whether or not you believe something doesn’t affect whether it is true.” Eve replied.

“Oh, you got that from a book.” Oksana said dismissively.

“Probably.” Eve admitted, “Sometimes I can’t tell anymore.” She added with a smile.  
  
“Did you run today?” Oksana asked quietly.

“Yes.” Eve said, taken aback by the question, “I run most mornings if I can.”

“Where did you go?” Oksana asked.

“Uh… There’s a towpath not far from my house. I ran along the river this morning.” Eve replied. She wasn’t sure where this was going, Oksana’s questions almost unfailingly turned inappropriate, but this thread seemed puzzlingly genuine.

“Will you tell me about it?” Oksana asked, almost embarrassedly, “Is it windy today?”

Embarrassed wasn’t a look Eve thought she would see on Oksana, well, ever. The meds must be messing with her head. Eve was confused, but she decided to go with it.

“The wind has dropped today actually,” Eve said, “it’s just a little breezy. The paths are a bit slippery from the rain yesterday, and the grass was wet still this morning. It’s cool, but not so cold that it hurts to breathe when you run.”

Eve paused and looked at Oksana. Her eyes had closed, but it seemed she was still listening because she nodded slightly as though she knew Eve was looking at her.

“The river is a bit swollen from rain and the water is flowing fast.” Eve continued, talking just loud enough to be heard, her eyes remaining glued to Oksana’s face, “It has that foam on the surface in some places. I think I saw a kingfisher. Or at least, I saw a flash of blue out of the corner of my eye when I rounded a bend in the path.”

Eve cast her mind back to that morning. Leo had been kicking off about the fact they had run out of his favourite breakfast cereal. The quiet of her run had been a welcomed respite.  

“It’s nice that early in the morning, there is hardly anybody else about.” Eve mused.  
  
Oksana’s eyes remained closed and Eve realised how pale she looked. There were definite bags beneath her eyes, and her collarbones appeared more pronounced than Eve had noticed before. Were they always like that? Normally Oksana was in her prison sweater so her clavicle was concealed from view. Normally any prolonged assessment of her form was stopped in its tracks by a fiery glare. In the hospital gown she was less fierce, less ready to pounce. And with her eyes closed, she was calm and quiet. Eve’s eyes travelled down. That thumb really did look sore. Oksana evidently chewed it quite frequently. Or at least had done recently. It must be a distress signal, or something she did for distraction? Or comfort even?

“Getting a good look?” Oksana asked lowly.

“Jesus.” Eve said, she couldn’t help herself. Oksana had made her jump.

Eve’s eyes made their way back to Oksana’s face and found themselves looking into Oksana’s curious green-brown gaze.

“You can look. I don’t mind.” Oksana shrugged, her signature grin now in place.

“I thought you had fallen asleep.” Eve confessed.

“So you waited until I was asleep to check me out?” Oksana asked jokingly, “That is a bit creepy, doctor.”

“Oh shut up,” Eve said lightly and shook her head.

Oksana laughed.

“Do you at least like what you see?” Oksana asked, and Eve couldn’t quite decipher her tone. Was it yet more teasing? Probably.

“Oh yeah, exhaustion really does it for me.” Eve replied sarcastically.

Oksana frowned where Eve had expected a laugh.

“That’s not fair. I am not looking my best.” She said, sounding genuinely perturbed by Eve’s joke.

“I—” Eve started.

The curtain was pulled back briskly, scraping along the metal curtain pole.

“Time to change the drip.” Announced a nurse quickly as she strode in. At a guess, she was in her mid-fifties, with thin, greying hair and a bony, angular face. She had an efficient and austere demeanour.

Oksana sighed.

“Just when I hoped you had changed your mind about the bed bath.” Oksana lamented.

The nurse glanced at Eve with a stern look.

“We don’t do bed baths.” She said tightly. “I’ve told her five times already.”

Eve nodded sympathetically at the nurse and then began to stand.

“I should go.” She said decisively.

“You can stay.” The nurse said brusquely, “She needs to be awake another half an hour to take her next pills anyway.” she explained, continuing to speak as though Oksana wasn’t in the room. Eve was about to reply when she felt a touch on her wrist.

“Yes, you can stay.” Oksana said softly, gripping Eve’s wrist more gently than Eve would have thought she was capable of. She looked up at Eve imploringly.

Eve squinted at her watch and then sat back down.

“I can stay half an hour.” She agreed.

And she _could_ stay, but she definitely shouldn’t. She had promised Niko she would be home to help Leo with his family tree project. How was it that her son was doing the same projects that she herself had done when she was his age? Was the school system really that unimaginative? And Eve had been educated in the States. Did every country do the bloody family tree project?

“Thank-you.” Oksana said to Eve quietly, her hand still loosely holding onto Eve’s wrist.

The other side of the bed, the nurse had switched the bags of intravenous antibiotic hooked onto the stand and was now unscrewing the tube into the cannula on the back of Oksana’s hand. Oksana winced slightly at what even Eve would describe as the somewhat rough insertion of the new tube. Eve waited for some biting remark from Oksana to the nurse, but it didn’t come. 

“She is not the hot one,” Oksana whispered exaggeratedly to Eve, jerking her head in the direction of the nurse.

Judging by the disgruntled side-eye that was cast Oksana’s way, the nurse definitely heard her comment. Eve forced herself not to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is food :)


	10. Chapter 10

The nurse had evidently not held any great desire to prolong her time around Oksana’s bedside. And Eve could hardly blame her. An Oksana in pain was unlikely to be pleasant company, and she must have been in a great deal of pain when she had first been brought to the hospital bay. In fact, Eve was surprised that Oksana had been so amenable to her so far during the visit. The nurse picked up a chart from the end of Oksana’s bed and scribbled something illegible on it before departing the area and pulling the rickety curtain closed behind her.

“Rude.” Oksana said once she had left.

“I imagine you’re far from the perfect patient.” Eve reasoned.

Oksana’s mouth dropped open in mock horror at Eve’s statement.

“Dr Polastri! I _am_ the perfect patient. Surely you should know that.” Oksana insisted.

“Oh, for sure,” Eve replied, “You’re an absolute dream. You answer all my queries, you never ask me inappropriate questions, you don’t swear at me, you always do as you’re told.” Eve counted off her points on her fingers as she made them and watched a smile spread across Oksana’s face.

“You enjoy it! I am interesting. I am funny. I have great tits…” Oksana replied, similarly counting on her fingers.

“Everything I look for in a client.” Eve countered sarcastically.

“Well, the tits thing maybe. After all, you have been with women apparently.” Oksana reminded her.

“Why didn’t you see the doctor?” Eve asked, speaking over the end of Oksana’s sentence.

“You shouldn’t have told Pargrave I needed to.” Oksana responded grumpily. She attempted to drive her grumpiness home by crossing her arms, but was stopped by the tube going into the back of her hand.

“Why not? Obviously you needed to.” Eve nodded to where she now knew Oksana’s wound lurked.

Oksana shifted in the bed.

“Only bullets bring down an Astankova.” Oksana muttered.

Eve’s eyebrows rose.

“Is that right?” She asked

“Well, bullets and betrayals.” Oksana clarified. “But not infections.”

“Clearly.” Eve said lowly, letting her eyes wonder to fresh bag of antibiotics being pumped into the woman in front of her.

“Excuse me?” Oksana said loudly, craning her neck to put herself back in Eve’s eyeline.  
  
Eve ignored the glare she was being treated to.  
  
“Did a bullet bring down your father? Is that why you had a stepfather? Was your father killed?” Eve prompted.

“My father is not dead!” Oksana replied at once.

“But he’s not in the picture?” Eve asked calmly.

“What picture?” Oksana laughed harshly, “It’s just been me in here for eight years.”

“I know,” Eve soothed, she felt the urge to put her hand on Oksana’s arm, but resisted. “Where is your father then?”

“In Russia.” Oksana said simply.

“He doesn’t visit?” Eve nudged.

“He cannot. He is in prison also.” Oksana shrugged. “Everybody always said I took after my father.” She added with a proud smile.

Eve wasn’t sure that hereditary incarceration was much to be proud of, but judging by the wistful look on Oksana’s face she would be inclined to disagree.

“So you grew up with your mother.” Eve stated.

“No.” Oksana snapped. “She is a fucking imbecile. A whore.”

Just when Eve thought she had untangled some part of Oksana Astankova’s familial web, she found herself wrapped in it instead, struggling to find an end to begin to unravel.

“OK,” Eve drew out, “But you were with her when you… Well, before you came here. Because the man you… That was your stepfather. Your mother’s husband.” Eve said, mostly thinking aloud in an attempt to decipher Oksana’s background.

“Not her husband. My father is her husband.” Oksana supplied shaking her head effusively.

“They’re still married?” Eve asked.

Oksana hummed.

“He will not divorce her. She cannot win.” She said admiringly.   
  
That was a petty manoeuvre as far as Eve was concerned, but evidently Oksana’s hero worship of her father ran deep.

“So she left him? She left the family?” Eve tried. “How old were you when she left?”

“She is a stupid whore.” Oksana repeated. “With really shitty hair.” She added, raising a hand self-consciously to her own hair and patting at it worriedly.

“Did she leave when you were very young? Were you raised by your father?” Eve pushed.

“Yes. By my father.” Oksana nodded absently, still twirling a strand of hair in her fingers.

“So why were you here with this stepfather?” Eve asked, excited to find at least a small amount of Oksana’s history emerging from the fog.

“Do you like my hair?” Oksana asked almost urgently, not so much avoiding Eve’s question as acting as though it hadn’t been asked at all.

Eve’s questioning was derailed but she had been getting somewhere. Now she found herself examining Oksana’s hair. It looked more lifeless than usual, hanging limply against her shoulders. But the colour remained lovely. Warm honey tones. Eve thought that with a good wash, – with something other than whatever prison shampoo consists of – a healthy amount of conditioner and maybe a trim, that hair would be absolutely beautiful.

“You have lovely hair.” Eve replied genuinely.

Oksana nodded.

“I do.” She agreed. “It is quite thin, but it used to be very shiny, and soft to touch.”

“So your mother—” Eve started.

“Ugh. Enough.” Oksana cut in, rolling her eyes. “This is boring. You said it wasn’t an appointment.”

Eve conceded. She had said that, and Oksana had now felt the need to remind her of it twice.

“You’re right. It’s not. Thank-you for sharing that with me though.” Eve replied.

“Whatever.” Oksana grumbled.

“I have something for you actually.” Eve remembered, sitting up straighter.

“Is it more daffodils?” Oksana asked dryly with one eyebrow raised sceptically.

“It’s not.” Eve replied.

“Thank God.” Oksana mumbled.

Eve shook her head and reached across Oksana’s legs for her bag that was at the end of the bed where she had slung it earlier when she helped the other woman to sit up. She could feel Oksana’s eyes on her as she rummaged through her bag in search of what she had bought the previous day.

It had been a bit of an ordeal. Nowadays there were all kinds of Apps for language learning. But Apps required a phone, and prisons were understandably strict on their policy about those… Eve had felt beyond stupid asking the young man in the electrical shop whether mp3 players were still a thing. He had looked at her like she was practically Victorian, but when she had explained the situation – without giving away certain details, such as the whole imprisoned murderer bit – he had supplied her with a device that would do the job. Eve probably wouldn’t tell Oksana that she’d had to pretend her gift was for an elderly person who couldn’t possibly understand a smart phone. Both the sales assistant and Leo seemed to buy Eve’s story though. Now Leo referred to Eve’s new client as ‘The Old Woman.’ Eve probably wouldn’t tell Oksana that either. Not that she would ever have reason to.

“Here we go.” Eve said, pulling the device and headphones from her bag.

“What is that?” Oksana asked suspiciously.

“It’s a kind of an ipod type thing.” Eve said uncertainly.

“For me?” Oksana asked. “Have you made me a playlist, Dr Polastri? How romantic.”

“No.” Eve replied, “There’s no music on it.”

“Oh. Great. So what? You just want me to strangle myself with the headphones? That’s what they’ll worry about in here, you know.” Oksana said knowledgably.

“I trust you not to do something as stupid as that.” Eve replied lightly, “It has language lessons on there. French.” She added, handing the device over to Oksana. “So you can practice your pronunciation.”

“Oh.” Came the response.

Oksana’s face was completely blank. Eve wasn’t sure what to make of that. Had she offended her? Oh God, Eve hadn’t thought this through. Or maybe Oksana thought it would just be confiscated?

“I checked with Mr Pargrave. You’re allowed it.” She assured Oksana.

That had been an uneasy conversation too. Bill had been entirely nonplussed as to why Eve wanted to visit Oksana in hospital and even more so when she said she had brought this gift along. Eve had to spin some bullshit about using it to win Oksana’s trust in order to make their sessions more productive. She wasn’t sure when that reason had become bullshit.

Oksana continued to look blankly at the device in her hand.

“You don’t have to use it.” Eve offered at last.

“No.” Oksana replied immediately, “I will. I like it.” she added closing her fingers around it tightly, as though Eve might reach out and take it back.

“Good. OK.” Eve nodded, “I just thought it might break up the boredom a bit while you’re in here.”

“Yes.” Oksana agreed.

Oksana was being uncharacteristically quiet and Eve felt suddenly uncomfortable. She glanced at her watch; half an hour was nearly up. The uptight nurse would be back at any moment.

“Well,” Eve started, “It’s nearly time for you to take your pills, and I had better get home quickly or I’ll be too late to—” She stopped. She had been about to say she’d be too late to help Leo with his family tree. But Oksana didn’t need to know anything about that.

“Too late to what?” Oksana asked immediately with a frown on her face. “Does your husband make you cook?”

Eve laughed at the idea of Niko waiting at home for her to get back and prepare his dinner for him.

“No, no. He’s the cook, not me.” Eve assured her.

“Good.” Oksana said decisively. “Women should not be made to cook, just because they are women.”

And Eve thought that was a rather interesting assertion.

“Did your father cook?” Eve asked, “When you were growing up?”

“The cook did the cooking.” Oksana shrugged.

Eve hid her surprise.

“And what if there is no cook?” Eve enquired. “Most people don’t have a cook.”

“Then it should be equal. Or whoever _likes_ doing it can do it.” Oksana replied, as if it was just that simple.

Eve felt a moment of grim thought flood through her and take a chill to her extremities. She remembered a detail from Oksana’s file and swallowed uncomfortably.

“Do you like cooking, Astankova?” Eve asked, trying to make her voice sound casual.

Oksana’s eyes snapped to meet Eve’s as though she knew what it was that made her ask that question.

“I don’t like being made to cook.” She replied evenly, maintaining eye contact.

Eve shifted back a little on the bed, subconsciously. Eve was used to working with people who had committed heinous acts, but somehow, with Oksana, she kept forgetting what this woman was capable of. Which was ridiculous really, after all, Eve was frequently treated to little snippets of Oksana’s temper that always seemed to be waiting just beneath the surface. Eve was always one poorly chosen word away from her wrath. Even now, Oksana was just quietly watching Eve, as though waiting for a reason to unleash her anger.

“Did—” Eve started cautiously.

“I am a very good cook.” Oksana interrupted at once, “I liked being in kitchen. The cook taught me how to make all sorts of things. What is your favourite meal?”

“My husband makes really good seafood pasta.” Eve replied carefully after a moment’s consideration.

“I can make that. Probably better than your husband.” Oksana offered up arrogantly.

Eve laughed lightly, there was no comeback to that. She could hardly tell Oksana to prove it, and even if she could prove it Eve didn’t want her to. Not really.

The curtain sectioning them off from the rest of the hospital bay was swished aside unceremoniously once more as the nurse strode in.

“Meds.” She declared, holding out a tiny paper cup with a small selection of colourful pills in it.

Oksana took the cup from her and then waited as the nurse poured a cup of water from a jug at the bedside before throwing all the pills into her mouth in one go. She held out her hand for the cup of water and then took a swig of that too.

“Open.” The nurse said after Oksana had made an exaggerated gulping sound.

Oksana opened her mouth wide so that the nurse could see into it.

“Tongue.” The nurse barked.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Oksana said with a smirk.

The nurse scowled and Eve winced at Oksana’s constant impropriety.

“Tongue.” The nurse said again, more firmly.

Oksana opened her mouth once more and then lifted her tongue to show that she wasn’t concealing the pills underneath it.

“Do you need to relieve yourself?” The nurse asked Oksana bluntly.

“You want me to follow you to the bathroom?” Oksana asked as though she was scandalised, “Oh nurse, you are so naughty!”

The nurse pursed her lips angrily. Eve couldn’t see the nurse’s feet because the bed was in the way, but she suspected she was tapping a foot irritably.

“Well?” She demanded.

Oksana glanced at Eve who was watching the exchange awkwardly. Eve caught the troubled look in Oksana’s eye. She didn’t want Eve to see that she needed help with this. Was she playing up with the nurse for Eve’s benefit too? Showing off?

“I’m going to go.” Eve said decisively, standing from the bed and slipping into her coat before hoisting her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you next Thursday, OK?” She said to Oksana, and then patted her on the thigh before she even realised she had decided to touch the other woman. “Feel better.” She added.

Oksana looked up at her with an unreadable expression. For a moment Eve thought she was about to thank her for visiting.

“Think of me when you eat your husband’s seafood pasta.” Oksana said with a meaningful quirk of her eyebrow.

Eve threw an anxious glance at the nurse and laughed unnecessarily loudly, though she wasn’t sure why, then made a hasty exit from the room.

“So?” The nurse said impatiently.

“Yes.” Oksana sighed begrudgingly. “And can we put those in water?” She asked, nodding at the daffodils that Eve had brought.

  

 

Eve had rushed out of the prison, bypassing Bill who obviously wanted to have a chat with her before she left and slinging a “I’ll call you!” over her shoulder as she headed down the corridor for the main doors. She was definitely going to be late home. She was definitely not going to be in Niko’s good books. Or Leo’s for that matter. It was already ten minutes later than the time she had agreed to be home by, plus it would take at least forty minutes to get there now. And that was if the traffic was in her favour.

The traffic was not in her favour. Eve arrived home just over an hour later.

“Mum! What is the Korean flag? And what was grandpa’s name?” Leo yelled from the kitchen the minute Eve closed the front door behind her.

“Leo, put that away now.” Eve heard Niko say firmly.

“But she’s home now. We can do it.” Leo whined as Eve made her way into the kitchen. “See?” Leo added, as though perhaps Niko hadn’t been aware of Eve’s presence.

“She is home now.” Niko agreed, “But now it’s time for dinner. You’ll have to finish your project another time.”

Eve was definitely nobody’s favourite person in this room.

“Sorry guys, traffic was appalling.” Eve tried to explain.

“I checked the route from your office,” Niko said quietly, “It was clear.”

Eve was taken aback by that, the idea of Niko checking up on her was vaguely violating.

“I wasn’t at the office. I was seeing a client.” Eve let out.

“The old woman!” Leo shrieked.

“You were checking up on me?” Eve asked Niko, ignoring Leo’s input.

“You were late. I was worried.” Niko pointed out, his tone taut.

“I’m often late. Do you always check my route?” Eve replied tersely.

“You are often late, aren’t you?” Niko shot back. “Leo, clear the table now. Dinner is almost ready.”

Eve kept her gaze on Niko for a moment, not sure whether to prolong this discussion or not. She felt a surprising bolt of anger towards him for both his actions and his tone. She decided that this discussion did have to continue, but it would keep until Leo was in bed or out of earshot.

Eve crossed the room to help Leo clear the table. She placed a kiss on his head and then started gathering up his felt tip pens.

“Sorry I was late, Leo. Can I help you with the family tree tomorrow? It’s looking great!” She enthused.

It didn’t look great. It was a mess of scratchy green and brown colouring depicting a wonky tree. Half of the page had names and straight lines connecting them that were obviously drawn by Niko. There was a neatly coloured in Polish flag (also Niko’s work) that had been cut out separately and stuck on at an absurd angle (presumably Leo’s job).

“Leo has a play date with Isabel tomorrow.” Niko said from the other side of the kitchen, keeping his back to the other occupants of the room.

“We’re going to take scooters to the park!” Leo told her happily.

That sounded like grazed knees and tears just waiting to happen as far as Eve was concerned. Isabel’s mother was welcome to take on that disaster.

“Fun!” Eve replied. “Well, we can do the tree at the weekend then, OK? I’ll tell you all about grandpa then.”

There wouldn’t be a great deal to tell. Her father had been a very restrained man, a particularly hands-off father.

“OK!” Leo agreed.

“I have to go and see some clients about this commission on Saturday morning.” Niko said, “You can do the tree then.”

Eve rolled her eyes. She didn’t appreciate being told precisely when she could do a school project with her son. It did make sense to do it on Saturday morning though, and clearly Niko was not in the mood to speak civilly with her at the moment, so Eve bit her tongue.

Eve lifted the large piece of cardboard that held Leo’s project and passed it to him carefully.

“Put that in the office, OK? We’ll finish it on Saturday.” Eve told him.

Leo took the project very gently and walked slowly from the room as though he was carrying the crown jewels, rather than one cardboard side cut from a bulk-bought box of toilet roll. Eve pulled open a kitchen drawer and snatched out three sets of cutlery.

“You could have messaged to say you would be late.” Niko said in a hushed tone.

“I was stuck in traffic,” Eve said, “My phone was in my bag in the trunk.” And it was partially true. Her phone was out of reach. But also, she was already late before she left Oksana.

“And you were with a client? Your schedule said you were in the office today.” He said, a distinct note of suspicion in his voice.

“It wasn’t a scheduled appointment. My client was hospitalised, I went to visit.” Eve replied neutrally.

“That’s a bit above and beyond, isn’t it?” Niko asked.

“I am trying to gain her trust.” Eve shot back, “I can’t do my job if she doesn’t trust me enough to talk to me.”

“And what about your son? Doesn’t he need to be able to trust you to be here?” Niko asked.

Eve slammed the cutlery drawer shut.

“Jesus Niko! I was late to do some ridiculous project that he won’t remember in a couple of months time!” Eve replied, trying to keep her voice down but also feeling the frustration from Niko’s questions seeping in.

Niko looked over his shoulder.

“Alright Lionman? Ready for dinner?” He asked.

Eve span around to see Leo hovering in the doorway, and then turned back towards the kitchen cupboards, her fingers gripping the counter.

“Shit.” She sighed under her breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is food :)


	11. Chapter 11

Finally it felt as though the wound in her side was beginning to improve. It no longer felt burning hot. It had ceased to strain painfully whenever she took anything other than the shallowest of breaths. Oksana wasn’t feeling dizzy anymore. Still tired, yes, but not exhausted, sweaty and delirious with a clammy forehead and damp palms. She was remained confined to the hospital bay though. Still had a tube running into her vein and a concoction of pills to take twice daily. She would prefer to be back in her cell, but at least she was now able to get herself to the bathroom. That was definitely an improvement.

Oksana exhaled heavily, relishing in the lack of searing pain in her side, and turned her attention to the small table to the side of her curtained off space in the hospital bay. It housed a jug of water and a plastic cup, a clipboard with her medical notes scrawled on it, and a vase of daffodils. Garish. But lovely. Oksana’s favourite flowers were white tulips, but she found herself suddenly able to appreciate these shining, yellow trumpets just as much.

And yet, Oksana felt conflicted. Her father had taught her to be suspicious of people who seek to buy her trust. Nothing in life is free. Everything has a cost. And nobody except family will care without expecting something in return. Sometimes even family weren’t to be trusted. That was one of the few lessons Oksana learnt from her mother too. Not that it had been a lesson her mother sought to teach, more that her behaviour taught Oksana how even familial trust could be broken. But her father did no such thing. He cared infinitely. And he imparted his wisdom to his daughter. What would he think of Dr Polastri’s flowers and gift? He would want to know why she had given them. What did she want? And that was the point that Oksana kept returning to. What _did_ she want? What could Oksana possibly give her?   
  
Nothing. Oksana had nothing to offer. She had been stripped of all ability to reciprocate. If she were free it would be a different matter. If she were free she might buy Dr Polastri a perfume that she would adore. Outside these walls, and back home in St Petersburg, Oksana could offer Dr Polastri anything her heart desired. Or rather, she could offer that to anyone. Not Dr Polastri in particular, of course. Not in here though. In here she had very little autonomy.

Oksana had been puzzling over this conundrum since Dr Polastri had left three days earlier. Her eyes kept catching on the bright flowers, a beacon on the table, or a warning light perhaps. But what the danger was exactly, Oksana had been unable to decipher. And then there was the device, with the French lessons. When Dr Polastri had handed that over, Oksana felt a shift within herself. Something had bloomed inside her, or else materialised in her chest like a mushroom cloud. It was warm and it spread. She had found herself at a loss for words. The Dr had put thought into the buying of a gift for Oksana. She had considered what Oksana liked and what she might need, and she had brought her the perfect solution to both. Oksana was… touched. That is, until the suspicion crept in at the edges. The echoed reminder of her father’s adage; nothing in life is free. Everything has a cost.

When Dr Polastri had first appeared by her bedside, Oksana had felt angry still. It was Dr Polastri’s fault that she was stuck here in the first place. If she hadn’t told Pargrave that Oksana needed to see a doctor, then Oksana would have carried on as normal and had her wound re-dressed as planned. And then Dr Polastri came in to see the invalid? What, to make her feel even more weak? To assert yet more dominance over Oksana? Oksana had planned to mess with her. To reel her in with her weakened infection-ridden state and then break her down like she had with the last psychologist. Make Dr Polastri feel as though she had the upper hand, and then crush her confidence like an empty can, void of purpose. There was an unfortunate truth at play now though, a troubling development. Oksana _liked_ Dr Polastri. She was sarcastic and clever, funny and able to match Oksana’s verbal sparring blow for blow. Plus, it had been a long time since Oksana had been touched in such a caring manner without it being a prelude to hasty sex with a fellow inmate. Not that she would say no to that with Dr Polastri. With Dr Polastri, Oksana could almost imagine herself being willing to let the other woman return the favour, and that was something she never normally allowed.

With the inmates, Oksana used sex as a commodity. Every single one of those women now owed her something. They didn’t know when she would call in a favour, and that made them wary, that gave her power, and power was important. Oksana didn’t care about those women. But this amicable feeling towards the Dr… it was inconvenient and Oksana would have to find a way around it. There was nothing else to be done.   
  
And yet, Dr Polastri had also unwittingly provided an interim solution for that conundrum too. Oksana needed something to occupy her time in the hospital bay and something to derail her thoughts. She was greatly enjoying her French lessons. The lessons themselves were basic, and far below her level of understanding of the language, but hearing it spoken aloud was highly beneficial for her accent. She was joyfully trying out her new verbal abilities on the nurses, throwing thoroughly filthy statements their way in a pinpoint precise accent and savouring their mostly bemused responses to the words they didn’t understand. Bemused, all except the hot one.   
  
Oksana had discovered to her delight that that particular nurse was rather enjoying the new game. Oksana began to notice the redness to the nurse’s cheeks whenever Oksana slipped into the French tongue. The nurse’s eyes flitted nervously to the gap in the curtain when she came to Oksana’s bedside now. Her hand lingered when she passed Oksana her little cup of pills. She said goodbye when she finished her shift, and goodnight when she turned off the overhead light in the hospital bay. She had appeared by the bedside at one point simply to tell Oksana that she had posted the letter Oksana had asked her to. Oksana had very little recollection of the content of her response to Konstantin, having written it in a rather delirious state, but she could worry about that later. Instead, she simply thanked the nurse sincerely in French and watched her blush in response.

Oksana felt herself growing hungry for human contact now she was feeling more herself again. She would have to remember to thank Dr Polastri for the opportunity to gain such a reaction from the hot nurse.

  
 

It had been nearly an hour since Eve arrived at her office. That was somewhat of a record for her. Carolyn had looked almost alarmed when Eve made her way purposefully through reception earlier that morning, throwing a nod to Carolyn who was collecting her post from the main desk.  
  
“You’re here to drop off your recommendation letter for the strangler?” Carolyn inquired over her glasses as Eve wafted past her.  
  
“No,” Eve replied breezily. “I haven’t written it yet.”

Eve was aware of the raised eyebrow look that comment garnered her from Elena, who was in the process of sorting out the post.  
  
“Haven’t written… Eve, his hearing is on Wednesday.” Carolyn pointed out.

“That’s why I’m here. To write it.” Eve remarked over her shoulder. Throughout their exchange she had barely slowed her pace at all.

She knew this wasn’t like her. She knew that the other occupants of the office saw her as a stickler for the rules when it came to her cases. She was never late to appointments, she filled out paperwork properly and promptly, she could recite her psychological diagnoses as though she were reading straight from one of the journals she had submitted multiple articles to. In fact, many of the others in the office didn’t like her for precisely those reasons. Elena was her only real friend here. And she had only switched from mildly disinterested in Eve to quietly amused after witnessing an inebriated Eve at a former colleague’s leaving drinks. To this day, Elena didn’t know she had in fact witnessed Eve’s only reaction to her father’s then-recent death. After Elena had sidled over to Eve and clinked their wine glasses together approvingly, the two had become gradual friends. And as for Carolyn, she and Eve shared a mutual respect but not a lot beyond that.  
  
“You’ve got half an hour!” Elena called to Eve’s retreating back, “Then I am coming in for a chat.”  
  
Eve waved her hand over her shoulder in response to Elena and pretended she didn’t hear Carolyn’s subsequent comment.

“Hasn’t even written it.” Carolyn murmured, “Extraordinary.”  
  
“Right?” Elena agreed.  
  
Eve ignored them both and continued down the corridor and into her office, shutting the door firmly behind her.

  
  
  
Twenty minutes later found Eve scrolling through Google images for an appropriately sized line drawing of the Korean flag that she could colour in for Leo’s family tree project. Of course, she could let him colour it. But it would be a mess. And besides, Niko had coloured in the Polish flag and therefore Eve’s Korean flag needed to look just as neat. Not that she was competitive. She would just print one of these and then she would get on with her letter of recommendation for the strangler.

It was a pretty simple case really. The man was not suitable for release. He needed further therapy and extensive rehabilitation and then another assessment, hopefully by somebody other than Eve. He was a textbook example of someone who had felt emasculated in his youth and powerless into adulthood, who asserted dominance over women by strangling them. He wasn’t interesting to Eve. In their sessions together he made no remark that altered her opinion of him. Their hours together had been tedious.   
  
“Knock, knock!” Came a voice from the door.

“You know,” said Eve, without removing her eyes from the computer screen as Elena sauntered in, “You wouldn’t have to say ‘knock knock’ if you actually knocked.”

“How’s the report going?” Elena asked, entirely disregarding Eve’s remark. “I can’t believe you’re doing it the day before. Eve Polastri, being reckless, who knew?”

“I have my moments.” Eve replied dryly, still scrolling through images of the Korean flag.

Elena rolled her eyes.

“Sure babe.” She uttered disbelievingly.

Eve glanced over the monitor at Elena. She had been telling the truth. If she cast her mind back, there had been times that she had acted recklessly. Those times often coincided with moments of emotional trauma, but still, Eve wasn’t _quite_ as straight-laced as her colleagues seemed to assume. She strived to remain professional when she was, well, at work. That was all.

“What’s the hold up with this report then anyway?” Elena asked, rounding the desk and crouching next to Eve’s office chair.   
  
Eve wasn’t quite quick enough to minimise the webpage.

“Oh, OK,” Elena said, nodding slowly, “I see the problem. These are pixelated images of Japanese flags, not a word document.” She added sagely.

“Korean flags.” Eve corrected.

“Still not Word though, is it?” Elena asked, elbowing Eve in the ribs.

Eve sighed.

“It’s for some school project of Leo’s. I have to colour one in for him.” She explained.

“I thought Niko dealt with all that sort of stuff. Surely he can colour in a little flag? The man is literally a professional artist.” Elena asked, waving her hand about dismissively.

Eve groaned.

“He’s done his part. But I kind of dropped the ball on this one. I was meant to be there to help Leo with my side of the family tree but… I wasn’t.” Eve trailed off.

“Family Tree?” Elena asked.  
  
Eve opened her mouth to reply but closed it as Elena cut in.

“Don’t tell me, I’m sure it’s boring.” Elena said, shaking her head quickly, “Where were you then?”

Eve paused for a moment, unsure how to answer.

“With a client and then stuck in traffic.” She answered. Not a lie.

“Wait. Was this a few days back?” Elena suddenly queried, causing Eve to furrow her brows in confusion.

“Yeah. Why?” Eve asked suspiciously.

“Niko called here asking for you.” Elena said conversationally.

“He... what?” Eve stuttered.

“Yeah. I told him you hadn’t been in. And then he sort of hung up.” Elena explained thoughtfully.

“Just hung up?” Eve asked.

“Well, he said bye, but yeah, pretty much. Actually, he seemed a bit pissed off.” Elena concluded.

“No shit.” Eve muttered, and then raised her voice, “I can’t believe he called here.”

“He was only wondering where you were.” Elena said reasonably.

“He could just trust me.” Eve said quietly, finally selecting her chosen flag and hitting print, just as Elena let out a loud bark of laughter.

“Wait!” She exclaimed, “Does Van Gogh think you’re having an affair or something?!”

Eve looked up at her quickly.

“No! I mean, I don’t think so…” She began.

“Can you imagine?” Elena laughed, “You? Playing away? That’s hilarious.”  
  
Eve wasn’t sure whether to be hurt by that reaction or not. Elena seemed unable to conceive of the idea that Eve could possibly be involved in something as exciting as an extra marital affair. Eve strove to be seen as professional, not boring. She also wasn’t sure how to respond to Elena’s remark, so she said nothing. After a few moments, Elena stopped laughing and stared at Eve with wide eyes.

“Fucking hell. You’re not are you?” She asked aghast.

“Of course not.” Eve snapped.

“Knew it.” Elena nodded, “Plus, you were with a client so not exactly someone likely to be an eligible bachelor. Unless you’re into psychopaths.” She added, waggling her eyebrows exaggeratedly.

“Hardly.” Eve replied firmly, before spinning in her chair to snatch the printed sheet from the printer behind her and holding the flag outline up for scrutiny. Elena pulled it from her hand and slapped it down on the desk.

“So… the report?” Elena asked pointedly.   
  
“Yeah. I’m going to do it now.” Eve sighed.

“Cool.” Elena replied, “Stick it on my desk on your way out? I’ll make sure it gets where it needs to be.”  

“Will do.” Eve murmured, finally pulling up a word document on the computer screen.

“Thank-you Eve,” Elena sing-songed, before standing up and heading to the door.

“If Niko ever calls again, I’ll tell him you said something about an appointment at a motel off the M25.” She added with a wink.

“Perfect. Thanks.” Eve replied with a sarcastic smile.

Elena laughed and left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.   
  
Eve ran her fingers through her hair. It was a habit she’d had for years and she closed her eyes at the soothing scrape of her nails against her scalp. Was that really what Niko had thought? Was that the real reason for all his digs about her being late home? Was it not about their son at all? No, that didn’t seem right. His frustration seemed mostly directed at what he saw as her substandard parenting. And yet he had called the office when she was visiting Oksana. That action did reek of mistrust.   
  
Eve tapped her fingers over the keyboard, writing an initial cursory line of the report. The bloody thing should write itself really. She had done enough of these things by now. She could do it in half an hour. It’s an easy one, dull and predictable. It wasn’t holding Eve’s attention today. She couldn’t concentrate.  
  
One day she would have to write one of these for Oksana. Eve almost laughed to herself. _That_ report would be anything but easy, dull and predictable. At this moment in time, she didn’t know what she would write for the other women. _About_ her, Eve corrected herself, not for her. Normally, Eve could tell pretty early on in her appointments with a client which way her report would go, whether it would lead to freedom or further imprisonment. It was wrong to decide ahead of time, of course, but after the amount of years Eve had been doing this, she had become pretty adept at picking up signs and spotting similarities to previous cases.

Not with Oksana though. She was… something else.

Eve shook her head vigorously. She needed to concentrate and write this report. But perhaps she should ring Bill and see how Oksana was doing. Or at least ask whether she would be out of the hospital bay in time for their appointment. No. He would call her if Oksana weren’t well enough, she didn’t need to call especially to find out.   
  
At that moment, Eve’s mobile phone started ringing from its spot on her desk. She snatched it up at once.  
  
“Hello?” Eve asked immediately.  
  
“Woah.” Came Elena’s voice, “That was the fastest you’ve ever answered. Anyone would think you were waiting for your fancy man to call!”

Eve held back an unamused growl.

“What do you want, Elena?” She sighed.

“How’s that report going?” Elena asked teasingly.

“Fantastic. It’s nearly done.” Eve lied.

“Cool.” Elena replied. “I’m bored. Can I colour in the flag?”   
  
Eve laughed in surprise and then regained composure.

“Only if you do it neatly.” She said resolutely.

“You have my word.” Elena replied solemnly.

“Come and pick it up then.” Eve let out with a laugh.

“Be right there!” Elena exclaimed and then hung up.   
  
Eve laughed again, and then her eyes landed on the still predominantly blank Word document in front of her, and her laughter abated swiftly. She typed another couple of lines and then paused. Why on earth had she thought that phone call might be another from Bill?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Small announcement: I am going to take a bit of time off from posting this story. Work has been manic for the past couple of weeks, leaving me little to no time to write (I haven't even been able to reply to all the comments on last chapter yet). Work will continue to be manic for another few weeks. I don't want to post badly written chapters just to keep to a self-imposed schedule, so I am going to step back until I have more written that I am happy with. I know this won't be what some of you want to hear and I do apologise. I am not abandoning this, I just want to give it more time.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I know it seemed like not much happened, but there were a couple of bits that will become more important later. 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey! Yeah, I finally have an update for you. It's not a return to the twice weekly routine yet, I'm afraid, but it's a start right? 
> 
> I wanted to say thank-you to everyone who was so bloody about my lack of writing time, who told me not to worry. I appreciate each and every one of you. I offer apologies for still not getting around to responding to every comment from before yet, and apologies if you write a fic and I haven't read and commented yet. I will. You have my word. 
> 
> For now, here's a little set up for the next session...

When she was in her early-twenties, Eve’s Saturday mornings were considerably different to this. In those days, she could be found in one of two ways. She could be nursing a hangover in bed, keeping a respectful distance from the body beside her. Drunken assertions of love and lust were all well and good, but hung-over morning breath was nobody’s ideal wake up call, even if it was emanating from the person you loved. Alternatively, early-twenties Eve would have risen promptly and quietly and made her way to a café, case notes or course book in hand, to wile away the morning hours with her glasses on and her mind engaged. At that time in her life, Eve had had two co-existing passions: her work and a woman who had gradually and then suddenly shared her life.   
  
On this particular Saturday morning, more than ten years on from her early-twenties, Eve was neither tangled in bed nor studying in a café. She was seated at the scrubbed wooden kitchen table of a home she owned. She was not hung-over, nor working. She was helping her son with his school project. For the barest flicker of a moment, Eve allowed herself to envision how that woman from her past would laugh if she could see Eve now, with an accompanying spectral shaking of her head.  
  
Eve took a pacifying sip from the coffee cup cradled in her hands and turned her attention to the busily scrawling child beside her. His look of sheer concentration was endearing and a smile spread on Eve’s lips as she watched his work progress messily.

“It’s looking fantastic, Leo.” Eve enthused.   
  
Lying, it turned out, was quite a large part of parenthood.   
  
“Yep!” Leo declared.

And modesty played no role at all in childhood apparently, or at least not in the childhood of Eve’s particular offspring.   
  
“These leaves should be purple.” Leo decided.  
  
“Should they?” Eve asked doubtfully. There were already green leaves on the drawing of the family tree.  
  
Leo nodded, and reached for the purple felt-tip pen, sending a variety of other colours scattering across the table in his quest.   
  
“Do you see many purple trees?” Eve asked curiously.  
  
Leo frowned.

“It’s not a real tree, Mum.” He said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s got flags on it.” He added.  
  
He had a point.  
  
“Purple leaves will be beautiful.” Eve replied, as she watched her son begin to colour in her husband’s neatly drawn leaves with an entirely unnecessary ferocity.  
  
“I know.” Leo said.  
  
Eve took another sip of her coffee and leant back in her chair. It wasn’t the worst way to spend a Saturday morning, though there was definitely work she could be getting on with. At that moment, Boots the cat made her presence known by leaping deftly onto the table and slinking across to Leo’s project before swiftly turning in a circle and curling up on the edge of the cardboard, wrapping her tail neatly around herself.

“Get down!” Leo shrieked, pulling the cardboard swiftly from beneath the cat and displacing Boots clumsily.

“Leo,” Eve said sternly, “Don’t shout at the cat.”   
  
“She got on the tree!” Leo exclaimed, as though Boots had just padded maliciously across a drying masterpiece of oil on canvas.  
  
Boots turned her back on the humans and stared resolutely at the kitchen wall in a tense seated position, her tail flicking dangerously at her side.  
  
“She doesn’t know how hard you’ve been working on it.” Eve pacified, before standing to scoop the now perturbed cat into her arms and then onto her lap.  
  
Leo simply huffed out an indignant sigh and returned to pressing a purple felt tip far too firmly into his cardboard tree. The nib of the pen pushed a hole into the top layer of cardboard. Eve fought the urge to roll her eyes, and settled instead for another mouthful of coffee and soothingly stroking the cat in her lap.  
  
The sound of keys jangling in the front door lock greeted Eve’s ears, and evidently Leo’s as well, as he leapt from where he had been kneeling on his chair and leaning across the table. His feet hit the kitchen floor and he dragged his project eagerly off the table behind him, sending felt-tip pens clattering onto the floor in its wake, before skidding out of the kitchen and into the hallway just as Niko closed the front door behind him.

“Lion Man!” Eve heard Niko’s voice exclaim.

“Look!” Leo shrieked, “I did the leaves purple!”  
  
“Perfect colour for leaves to be! It’s a masterpiece!” came Niko’s enthusiastic response. “And your mum did her flag too.”  
  
Eve listened as Niko’s footsteps entered the kitchen behind her. His hand dropped to her shoulder and she felt him lean down to press a kiss and moustache bristles into her cheek.

“Well done, Mum.” He said teasingly.  
  
Eve smiled and this time allowed her eyes to roll as they so wanted to. Leo reappeared at her side and slapped the family tree back down onto the table, issuing a resulting waft of air. Boots leapt from Eve’s lap and slunk moodily away, clearly keen to avoid another run in with the smallest and loudest member of the family.   
  
“How did you get on?” Eve asked, gathering Leo’s colouring equipment into a more ordered pile on the table.

“Oh fine, fine. They’re in no rush for the commission at least. Takes a bit of pressure off.” Niko said from where he was now switching on the kettle.

“That’s good.” Eve replied.

“Mmm.” Niko agreed, “Fresh cup?” He asked, holding up the coffee pot.

“Please.” Eve nodded gratefully.

“Grandpa was called Sam!” Leo interrupted.

“He was.” Niko confirmed, “Old Sam the Man.”

“Did you like him?” Leo asked, not looking at Niko or Eve and furiously colouring in yet more purple leaves, and a small part of the kitchen table.

“Watch the table, Leo.” Eve said gently, putting her hand over Leo’s momentarily. He didn’t reply, but did pull his hand from beneath Eve’s and start colouring leaves nearer to the centre of his work.

“I liked him,” Niko offered up, “And he liked me. I was preferable to your mum’s previous partner.” He finished with a wink directed at Eve as he poured fresh coffee into the mug in her out-stretched hand.

“Oh, he definitely preferred you.” Eve said darkly.   
  
Niko laughed loudly and turned back to wipe down the kitchen counter and load a few stray items into the dishwasher.  
  
“Oh and Eve, the Austins are coming to see how their painting is looking. I invited them to have dinner after. Next Thursday evening, OK?” He said over his shoulder.   
  
“This Thursday you mean?” Eve asked.

“No, next Thursday, the one after this one.” Niko replied, “Put the date in your ical. You don’t have to do anything, just be here, please?”  
  
“Can I have dinner with the Austins too?” Leo requested, distracted from his work and looking up at Niko hopefully.

“Of course! I’m going to make squid and slug salad.” Niko replied casually.

“Bleurgh!” Leo yelled, far too close to Eve’s ear, “No thank-you.” He added.

“Are you sure? It’s very nutritious. It tastes a bit like maggot casserole.” Niko replied innocently.

“Gross! No way!” Leo shouted, once again testing the strength of the sound barrier, and Eve’s eardrums.

“Suit yourself.” Niko shrugged.  
  
Eve stood up from the table and stretched.  
  
“If you two are OK here, I was going to go up to the office for an hour or so.” She said lightly.  
  
“I think we can handle clearing the family tree away and getting some lunch on the go, can’t we Lion Man?” Niko asked.

“Yep.” Leo agreed.   
  
“Great.” Eve smiled and crossed the kitchen to where Niko was leaning back against the counter with his own steaming coffee mug. “I’m glad everything went well with the Austins.” She said to Niko quietly.   
  
“Thank-you for doing the tree with him,” Niko murmured so that Leo wouldn’t hear, and pulled Eve closer so he could place a kiss on her lips. “And the colouring on that Korean flag,” he let out in mock awe, “Exquisite.” He finished with a smile.  
  
Eve rolled her eyes again as she pushed herself out of Niko’s arm and turned to leave the room as Niko patted her affectionately on the ass.   
  
“Lunch in an hour!” Niko called as Eve disappeared into the hall.  
  
It would probably be best not to tell either of them that Elena had been the one to colour in the Korean flag, Eve decided as she retreated to the quiet of her home office.   
  


  
  
The urge to call Bill and see how Oksana was doing had returned to Eve on more than one occasion and she had resisted it until the day before their scheduled appointment. It wouldn’t be strange if she called now, Eve decided. After all, she needed to double check that their appointment was still on. If Oksana wasn’t well enough then Eve didn’t want to drive all the way out to the prison for no reason, that would be a frustrating waste of time. If Oksana was still unwell then Eve would have a free afternoon. She could pick up Leo from school again. Of course, Bill was usually pretty good at these things, he would definitely let Eve know if they needed to rearrange, but still, everybody dropped the ball sometimes and it was probably best to check anyway.   
  
Eve was in her car, outside her home. She had just returned from an appointment with a different client in a different prison, and had found herself musing on Oksana’s wellbeing as she drove home for the evening. Bill would still be at work though, his shifts tended to go on later than Eve’s workday. She pulled the lever to the side of her car seat and pushed her seat further from the steering wheel and then leant back, stretching her legs slightly as she fished her phone out of the handbag on the passenger seat.   
  
It rang for several seconds before Bill’s voice came on the line.

“Eve,” he said warmly, and Eve could practically hear the smile in his voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”  
  
“Hey Bill,” Eve let out, “How are you?”  
  
“Oh, you know, I’m a man in charge of several hundred criminal women. Every day is an utter delight.” He joked.

“I’m sure,” Eve said with a laugh.  
  
“And how about you? Everything alright?” Bill asked curiously.

“Oh yes. All fine.” Eve replied.

“Right…” Bill drawled, “So you’re just calling for a chat?”

“Oh!” Eve let out, “No. Sorry. How is Oksana?”

“Astankova?” Bill clarified.

“Yes. Astankova. How is she? Is she… better?” Eve rushed.

Bill let out a weary chuckle.

“I’d say so,” He said tiredly, “She’s back to being a complete and utter pain in the arse again at least.”

Eve laughed warmly and felt a surprising bloom of relief erupt in her chest.

“She is certainly spirited.” Eve agreed with a smile that no one could see.

“Yes well, I’d appreciate it if she could keep her spirit to herself. We’ve had to fire a perfectly good nurse due to Astankova’s… spirit.” Bill muttered.  
  
“What?” Eve asked in confusion, her brows were furrowed and that warming feeling of relief had ceased its spread through her chest and instead hung there like smoke, as though waiting to dissipate entirely.  
  
“Prison nurses aren’t easy to come by either. I don’t want to have to add, ‘Not likely to sleep with the inmates,’ to my list of interview criteria. Though you would have thought it was a given…” Bill trailed off.   
  
Eve’s eyebrows furrowed more tightly still.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Eve stuttered, “What are you saying?”  
  
“I’m saying Astankova was well enough to entice an unsuspecting nurse into her hospital bed, so I would say she’s just about recovered.” Bill explained. “She’s been returned to her cell now.”  
  
The sense of relief had well and truly altered now, turned to gravel and dropped to heavily line the base of Eve’s stomach. She swallowed. Her throat was dry.  
  
“I see.” Eve said tersely.

“That’s what the call was for, I’m guessing?” Bill queried, “To check she was up for your appointment tomorrow?”

“Yes. Exactly.” Eve replied.

“Well, you’re in luck.” Bill chuckled, “Or not. Depending on how you look at it. Astankova will be ready and raring to go tomorrow. Just do me a favour and try not to succumb to her siren call, hmm?” He finished with another chuckle.  
  
“Sure.” Eve said quickly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”   
  
She hung up before hearing Bill’s goodbye.   
  
Eve let her head drop back against the headrest of her seat. The gravel in her stomach was churning now. Why? Normally, if Eve had heard about a prison nurse fraternising with an inmate she might assume the nurse had been manipulative, it would have been an abuse of power, a taking advantage of someone in their care. But not with Oksana. If Oksana slept with a nurse – and Eve suspected it was the ‘hot one’ – then any coercion would certainly have been on the part of Oksana, Eve had no doubt about that. And she found herself… disappointed in Oksana’s behaviour? No, that wasn’t quite it. It felt closer to hurt, but—

There was a loud banging on the car window and Eve was startled from her thoughts. A face pressed itself up against the glass, puffing out its cheeks and pressing its lips against the window so that they pouted like a fish. A loud raspberry was blown and a smear of slobber was left behind when Leo pulled back and laughed gleefully before smacking the window again with his table tennis bat.

“What are you doing?” Leo yelled louder than was necessary.

Eve nodded and smiled, not quite sure what to say.  
  
Niko appeared behind Leo and gave Eve a quizzical look.  
  
“Everything alright in there?” He called.  
  
Eve forced another smile and reached for the car door, waiting for Leo to back away before she pushed it open and got out of the car.  
  
“Fine, just got back,” Eve said breezily, smile still in place.

“Oh, OK.” Niko replied, eyeing the phone in Eve’s hand. Eve shoved it into her pocket and then reached back into the car for her handbag.   
  
“Been at the table tennis club?” She asked conversationally.  
  
“I won again!” Leo whooped.  
  
“Of course you did,” Eve beamed, bending down to ruffle her son’s hair.   
  
“How was your day?” Niko asked with a slightly suspicious note in his voice.  
  
“Great!” Eve decried, “I’m starved though, how about…. Pizza?” She asked, pausing for dramatic effect and to ready herself for Leo’s inevitable shrieks of joy.  
  
Sure enough Leo was ecstatic at the suggestion.  
  
“Pizza, pizza, pizza!” He chanted joyously as he ran up the path to the front door.  
  
Eve laughed emptily and followed him.   
  
“I made shepherd’s pie!” Niko called dejectedly before following his family to the front door.  
  
  
  
Oksana had been returned to her cell. Years ago, when she had first heard the door to this room clang shut behind her she never thought she was would be relieved to hear that sound. And yet, her return after the stay in the hospital bay had been a moment of just that, relief. In here, she was surrounded by her things. She didn’t have that brutal nurse poking and prodding her and jamming pills down her throat or tubes into her veins. She also didn’t have the cautious smile of the hot nurse, or the sensation of her lighter touch on her arm to wake her. But she had got what she had wanted from her. There was nothing left to ponder about when it came to that particular scenario. And Oksana felt a sort of release from that.   
  
She had learned to find power in other people’s pleasure, never having been able to reach that moment of raw pleasure herself, at least, not at the hands of anyone else. At some point, Oksana had decided whilst watching another inmate succumb to her ministrations that to let go so completely was to make oneself vulnerable. And since witnessing that weakness in others, Oksana had never gifted that exposed part of herself to anybody at all. Now, it was just a fact. Oksana took her pleasure in the hunt, the entrapment and the powerful position of being the one in control, having another human’s release at her mercy. It did not go both ways. She took her reward through other means.   
  
Pargrave had been so furious about the nurse that Oksana had briefly almost felt guilty. It was a shame, she supposed, that the nurse had lost her job over such a simple human act. And yet, Oksana decided, she had certainly enjoyed herself in the process, Oksana had made sure of that. She could find another job. Pargrave on the other hand seemed less willing to let the episode go so lightly. He had deposited Oksana back in her cell without a backwards glance, without their usual jovial chat en route and without a single smile. It annoyed Oksana.   
  
Still, that was yesterday and Pargrave would get over it eventually. Or he wouldn’t. That was his choice really. Tomorrow though, it would be Oksana’s appointment with Dr Polastri and she found herself excited by the prospect. She was eager to show the Dr how improved her accent had become with the gift of the French lessons. Perhaps Dr Polastri would also find Oksana’s multilingual flirting too tempting to resist. She smiled at the thought. There was definitely something about the Dr that was appealing to Oksana.  
  
The more she thought about that voluminous dark hair and the cute prim and proper glasses, the more excited she felt. Her veins were charged with electricity that turned to static in her stomach as she took a deep breath and allowed herself to recall precisely the scent of Dr Polastri’s perfume. Oksana exhaled shakily and shifted in her position where she lay on her bunk. One hand slipped down from where it had been protectively cupping the finally healing wound in her side and ventured beneath the waistband of her prison-issue sweatpants.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! Here's a chapter to tide you over. I have a bit of time coming up, so the plan is to get a few chapters ahead to avoid long gaps again... Thank-you as always for your patience and your feedback. Both are greatly appreciated :)

In the prison facility where Oksana had spent the last eight years, the inmates were roused from their slumber by an alarm, more akin to a siren, that blasted through speakers in the corner of each cell at exactly the same time every morning. It was like clockwork, literally. A routine that was so second nature now that Oksana doubted she would ever wake at a different time again, even if she were to get out of here one day. Some mornings though, just to mess with the guards, Oksana would remain beneath her thin duvet, feigning sleep until someone had to come and physically galvanise her into getting ready to traipse to the canteen for some beige breakfast or another. She’d never know that on those mornings the guards would bicker over who ventured into her cell the last time, and whose unlucky turn it was now. If Oksana did know, she would only be pleased to hear it.  
  
On this particular morning though, the guards could refrain from bribing and bargaining with each other, because Oksana was up and dressed and waiting patiently to join the shuffling brigade to breakfast. She wouldn’t be loitering, flirting coyly or gnashing her teeth at the other inmates either. She was perfectly content and focused on getting through breakfast with no time-consuming altercations, because this morning was her appointment with Dr Polastri and she was looking forward to it.   
  
Intelligent conversation with a woman who Oksana could now admit to herself that she was finding more attractive with each visit; those one-hour sessions had become the highlight of Oksana’s week. And, if she didn’t have a reputation to uphold there might have even been a visible manifestation of her excitement as Oksana devoured her flavourless breakfast at a record pace.   
  
“I missed you last week.”   
  
Oksana was seated at one of the long metal benches, screwed to the floor alongside the lengthy tables in the canteen, shovelling lumpy porridge into her mouth, when her imaginings were penetrated by a familiar voice. It was the voice of someone that Oksana hadn’t thought about for well over a week now, let alone missed. 

“Oh yeah?” Oksana replied through a mouthful of oaty mush. “Well, I am back now.”

“I’m glad.” Came the quiet reply. “Renate was a lot more… vocal, while you were away. She was bragging.”  
  
Oksana swallowed forcefully and then laughed harshly.  
  
“She took credit for that? It was an infection that put me in the hospital, not her little joke with the plastic spoon. _Amateur_.”  
  
Oksana issued the final word loudly enough to catch the attention of surrounding inmates. She pronounced it properly in French too, ensuring that the inmates who already found her pretentious and superior were sure to only strengthen that belief.  
  
“But it’s better now? You’re OK?” was the almost urgent response. 

“Nadia. I am fine.” Oksana assured her, reaching out to place her hand over the other woman’s arm. “See?” she exclaimed, pulling up her prison sweatshirt to expose her stomach up to the edge of her white prison bra and reveal the un-bloodied patch that covered her nearly entirely healed wound. 

There was a banging from the end of the table where a guard slammed a plastic cup down on the surface a few times.

“Astankova! We’re here for breakfast not a show, cover yourself up!” the guard shouted down the length of the table.   
  
Oksana bit back her instinctive response and roughly tugged her sweatshirt back down. Today was not the day to provoke a trip to Pargrave for answering back, or any other punishment that would keep her from her appointment.

“Anyway, I’m fine.” Oksana huffed and Nadia nodded quickly.

Beneath the table Oksana felt Nadia press her leg closely against Oksana’s and hold it there insistently.

“I will be in the library later.” Nadia said just above a whisper, and then glanced quickly at Oksana before averting her eyes.

Oksana raised a single eyebrow. It was a tempting offer. Nadia was very responsive and Oksana had always quite enjoyed making her writhe and jolt with pleasure. Nadia was a good little spy to have on her side. She was quiet and could go unnoticed. She could provide Oksana with prison gossip and was always happy to do so. Oksana was aware that Nadia looked up to her and admired her and Oksana was only too happy to exploit that. Plus, a little physical affirmation of power never hurt anybody. Well, that wasn’t true. But it never hurt Oksana, and that was what mattered.   
  
“Not this morning.” Oksana said simply, spooning another lump of porridge into her mouth. Porridge really shouldn’t clump together like that. “I have an appointment.” She said smugly, speaking with her mouth full.

“Oh.” Nadia replied, shifting her leg away from Oksana’s apologetically.   
  
Oksana swallowed her porridge and washed it down with much needed water. She nodded patronisingly at Nadia.  
  
“Maybe later, hmm?” Oksana offered as she rose to stand from the table with her emptied tray.   
  
There was a loud banging from the end of the table once more.

“In your seat, Astankova!” came the guard’s shout.  
  
“But I am finished.” Oksana complained petulantly.  
  
“Well done, we’ll be sure to give you a gold star.” The guard said snidely, prompting scoffs and sniggers from the rest of the table’s occupants. “Now sit down and wait until everyone is dismissed.”  
  
Oksana sat back down heavily and dropped her tray onto the table top with a clatter. She rested her cheek into her hand, her elbow firmly on the table, and sighed, sending a wisp of her hair momentarily awry. She surveyed the slow pace of some of the neighbouring eaters dismally.   
  
“Want to hear about what happened in the showers yesterday?” Nadia asked hopefully from right next to Oksana’s shoulder.  
  
Oksana rolled her eyes and sighed again.   
  
“Did somebody drop the soap?” She asked monotonously.   
  
“Yes!” Nadia whispered excitedly. “And you won’t believe what Renate did to her.”   
  
“Oh, I bet I will.” Oksana said disinterestedly.  
  


 

It took what felt like days for everybody around her to finish their breakfast and for the guards to dismiss their table from the canteen. Oksana hurried back to her cell for her toothbrush, managing to shake off Nadia along the way with the promise of maybe meeting her later near the natural history shelf in the library.  
  
Oral hygiene had always been high on Oksana’s list of priorities but today she spent an extra minute scrubbing her teeth clean before peering at herself in the slightly mottled mirror. She drowned out the chattering and squabbling of the women around her with her own thoughts. She ran a finger over her eyebrows. She wasn’t a fan of the ‘starving eyebrow’ look, but even so, there were a couple of strays that she longed for the chance to pluck. Still, she looked good. Even with her hair in need of a cut (and ideally a colour), and a total lack of make-up, Oksana looked good.

 “Stunning,” she murmured to her own reflection.   
  
Oksana nodded once and then smiled before stalking out of the bathroom, past the guard, and returning to her cell to wait for Pargrave to collect her and take her to her appointment. 

 

  
She was sitting on the top bunk, her legs hanging over the edge and swinging gently when she heard Pargrave’s footsteps approaching along the corridor outside. Oksana waited until Pargrave had just rounded the corner and then swung herself off the bed to the floor, her boots making noisy contact with the concrete floor as she landed.

“Oh for fu—” Pargrave let out, clutching a hand to his chest as he was startled backwards at Oksana’s sudden appearance. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.” He uttered as he collected himself.

“I am feeling better.” Oksana shrugged innocently.  
  
“Yes, and don’t we all know it.” Bill replied with a knowing look.

“What?” Oksana let out with a hint of a smirk, “It wasn’t my fault. That nurse wanted me from the start.” Oksana explained.  
  
“The thing is though, Astankova, you think _everybody_ wants you.” Bill countered.

“Most people do.” Oksana nodded sagely.

“Right. Well, if you could at least try to manage your adoring fans in a way that didn’t lead to me losing staff members, I would appreciate it.” Bill replied flatly.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Oksana whispered conspiratorially.

“You do that,” Bill agreed, “Now, are you ready to go? Dr Polastri was pleased to hear you’re out of the hospital bay. I think.”

“She called?” Oksana asked immediately.  
  
“She did.” Bill nodded, watching an uninhibited smile spread across Oksana’s face.

“I am ready, let’s go.” Oksana said decisively and marched out of the cell, letting Bill hurry out behind.  
  
Oksana kept up her pace all the way to the door of the appointment room, only slowing down for Bill to use his key card at various points, before she would stride onwards once more. By the time they reached the room, Bill had the distinct feeling of being someone scurrying after a member of the royal family, trying to keep up and ensure that no obstacle befell them.   
  
“So I will come and get you in an—” Bill started just before he reached out his key card to allow Oksana access to the appointment room.   
  
“In an hour! Yes, Pargrave, I know.” Oksana issued impatiently.  
  
“Pargrave?” Bill raised his eyebrows at Oksana.   
  
“ _Mr_ Pargrave.” Oksana huffed. “Are we done?”  
  
“Yes. We’re done.” He said haltingly. He had never known Oksana so eager for an appointment with a psychologist and he could only hope she hadn’t thought of some new way to torment Eve that she hadn’t tried on any of her previous victims.  
  
Bill swiped his key card and a little green light barely had time to flash before Oksana was pushing the door open, slinging a, “Bye Pargrave” cheekily over her shoulder and disappearing into the room.   
  
Bill sighed and shook his head. If he hadn’t already lost much of it, he thought his hair would be well and truly grey after the years spent navigating Astankova’s moods.   
  
  
  
Oksana took her usual seat in the appointment room and surveyed the woman before her. Her lustrous dark hair was already under control today, pinned back with an elegant silver clasp. Oksana found herself quietly disappointed to have missed the other woman pinning it back. She was in a pair of well cut cropped burgundy trousers and a black blazer, sleeves pushed back to just below her elbows. Her glasses were on and she perused her little leather bound notebook studiously.   
  
“Hello Dr Polastri.” Oksana said politely with a genuine smile.   
There was a crackle of excitement in her stomach that had ignited into a small flame at the sight of the woman before her.   
  
“Astankova.” Came the curt reply.   
  
There was no eye contact, no smile. The other woman didn’t look up from her notebook at all. Oksana’s eyebrows inched together. That was not the warm and welcoming response she had been expecting after their last interaction.  
  
“I want to talk more about your father.” Dr Polastri said resolutely.   
  
“What?” Oksana breathed out incredulously.

“Your father. He seems to be quite a pivotal figure in your life. I think we should discuss him further.”  
  
It sounded so professional and cold. Uncaring and analytical. The flame in Oksana’s stomach extinguished like a candle on a birthday cake being pinched between a wetted finger and thumb.  
  
“No ‘How are you feeling, Astankova?’, ‘Nice to see you up and about’, ‘You’re looking well’?” Oksana asked, failing to keep the tone of hurt from her voice.

Finally Dr Polastri looked up from her notebook and peered through her glasses, fixing her eyes on Oksana’s confused expression.

“I’m your psychologist.” She said simply.   
  
Oksana opened her mouth and a small stunned croak came forth, but nothing else. What was going on here?

“So, your father. Was he strict with you?” Dr Polastri prompted.  
  
“You brought me flowers and a gift.” Oksana replied nonplussed. She watched Dr Polastri shift in her seat at that, she saw her uncross her legs and then re-cross them.   
  
“I would do that for any of my clients.” Dr Polastri said tightly.

“Liar.” Oksana shot back at once. “That is a lie.”   
  
“We’re not playing truth and lie games today, Astankova. And I asked you a question.” Dr Polastri replied agitatedly, almost angrily.  
  
Oksana recoiled. Her breathing was starting to quicken and she could feel her temper beginning to creep in at the edges in response to Dr Polastri’s tone.  
  
“Why are you lying?” Oksana urged.  
  
“You are not my only client. Just the only one who was hospitalised recently. I brought you flowers. Now answer the question.” Dr Polastri replied, she was speaking calmly but Oksana wasn’t buying it, her voice was tight and closely controlled.  
  
“You would buy gifts for your other clients? You would hold their hand?” Oksana asked disbelievingly.  
  
“Astankova, we are not discussing this further. I am here to assess you, so I need you to answer my questions.” Dr Polastri tried again.  
  
“Fuck you.” Oksana spat furiously. “What is your problem?”  
  
“My problem is I am trying to do my job and you are being obstructive!” Dr Polastri replied, finally losing control of her feigned calm.  
  
“And you’re being a bitch! Seriously, is it your time of the month or something?” Oksana rebuked scathingly.  
  
“You can’t ask me that,” Dr Polastri exclaimed, “It’s increasingly clear that boundaries don’t mean much to you, but that is still an inappropriate question.”  
  
“Are you not getting any? Can your husband not get you off anymore? Marriage gone stale?” Oksana pushed.   
  
Dr Polastri opened her mouth to reply.  
  
“Bet I could find out exactly what does it for you.” Oksana added silkily. And she believed it too. She had imagined a few scenarios now; she had a few ideas in mind that Dr Polastri would probably enjoy. Or at least Oksana certainly would.   
  
Dr Polastri, to Oksana’s surprise, let out a dry, humourless laugh.

“Like you did with that nurse?” Dr Polastri bit out.  
  
The room fell silent. The two women found themselves staring at one another. Dr Polastri looked as though she wanted to pluck those last words out of the air and swallow them back out of existence. Oksana looked taken aback, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open a little. Then a knowing smile crept onto her lips.  
  
“Ohhhhh.” Oksana let out deliberately. “Dr Polastri, you’re not feeling a little jealous are you?” she asked with quiet glee.  
  
Dr Polastri scoffed derisively.  
  
“Again, I am your psychologist. I am not jealous that you manipulated that poor young nurse into your bed. If I feel anything it’s what a shame it is that she wasted her career on you.” Dr Polastri said. Her tone was matter of fact, and her sentiment may have been believable if it weren’t for the flush of red encroaching up her neck.   
  
“How do you know she didn’t manipulate me? She was the one in a position of power.” Oksana replied with fake meekness as she curled her shoulders in to make herself appear small and weak.   
  
Dr Polastri scoffed once more.

“Oh please. I have met you, Astankova.” She pointed out.   
  
Oksana returned to her full stature and shrugged.

“Whatever. It wasn’t a waste of her career though. She had a good time, I promise.” Oksana finished with a wink.   
  
“God, you’re a brat.” Dr Polastri let out, shaking her head in disbelief.  
  
“Excuse me?” Oksana asked coldly.  
  
“You think everyone is just _dying_ for a chance to be with you, don’t you? Your ego is practically palpable.” Dr Polastri went on.  
  
“Oh, so you’re this worked up about me fucking that nurse because you’re _not_ jealous? Because you _don’t_ wish you were the one I was fucking?” Oksana hissed, leaning towards Dr Polastri, her eyes glinting dangerously.  
  
“Of course not! Are you insane?” Dr Polastri exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.

Oksana laughed manically for a moment and then her face returned all too quickly to a neutral expression.

“Isn’t it your job to figure that out?” She asked icily.   
  
Dr Polastri said nothing. She had almost shrunk in her chair, deflated and defeated. A minute passed. Oksana was resolutely not looking at Dr Polastri, she had twisted in her chair and pulled one boot-clad food to rest on the edge of the seat.

“You’re not insane.” Dr Polastri said quietly at last.   
  
“Is that your professional opinion? Can I go now? Or are you still deciding whether I might be a psychopath?” Oksana replied sulkily, chewing the skin next to her thumbnail on one hand while she inspected the fingernails on the other.

“Oksana.” Dr Polastri breathed tiredly.  
  
Oksana’s eyes snapped up at once, her thumb dropping from her mouth, as her gaze landed on Dr Polastri’s downcast expression.

“Sorry, I meant Astanko—” Dr Polastri started.  
  
“You know,” Oksana interrupted, adjusting her body so that she was facing forwards again, “I was actually looking forward to today. I enjoy our conversations. Well, not this one so much, but the last ones have been nice. And when you came to the hospital to visit, and bought me those ugly flowers—”  
  
“They’re not ugly.” Dr Polastri mumbled.  
  
“…those hideous flowers, it actually meant something, you know? I thought you cared about me a bit. I really liked you.” Oksana finished leadingly.  
  
“I do care.” Dr Polastri cut in. “I do.”  
  
“No, no,” Oksana shook her head, “You take awful flowers to all your clients, you said so.”  
  
Dr Polastri pursed her lips.

“It was a lie.” She said through gritted teeth.  
  
“Ha!” Oksana exclaimed loud enough to make the other woman jump. “I knew it! I told you it was a lie. You would only bring flowers to me.”  
  
“I don’t think a lot of my clients would appreciate flowers. Most are middle-aged men imprisoned for weird sex stuff.” Dr Polastri mused aloud and Oksana frowned.  
  
The room was quiet for a moment once more.  
  
“So why were you being such a bitch?” Oksana asked lightly.  
  
“I was not being a—” Eve started and then stopped and sighed, “It’s my time of the month?” she tried.  
  
Oksana narrowed her eyes dubiously at Dr Polastri.  
  
“Hmm.” She drawled. “It was not about me fucking the nurse?”  
  
“Well, I do think you should show a little more concern for the consequences of your actions. The woman has lost her job.” Dr Polastri reasoned.   
  
“But you were not jealous?” Oksana probed, an air of hope to her voice, and entirely ignoring Dr Polastri’s words.  
  
“No.” Eve replied hurriedly, “That would be highly unprofessional.”  
  
“So?” Oksana asked indifferently.   
  
“Look, I’m sorry I was a… bitch. How about we start this session over?” Dr Polastri suggested.  
  
Oksana eyed her curiously for a moment. Clearly Dr Polastri was more complex than Oksana had previously thought. But that was OK; she had time to figure her out. There was hardly anything else going on in her life. This could still be fun. Besides, Oksana had seen Dr Polastri angry now, and there was something quite exhilarating about it.  
  
“OK.” She agreed. “On one condition.”

“What?” asked Dr Polastri cautiously.

“Tell me your name.” Oksana said with a daring smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so I'm aware that Nadia might seem out of character. But if you think about it, we don't really know what she was like before she knew Oksana was manipulative and only looking out for herself. We saw her be kind of the pet of that other assassin guy whose name I can't remember. So I feel like she had the propensity to be quite sort of meek and eager to please, so I went with it. She won't be a prominent character in this. Just needed someone else for Oksana to interact with.
> 
> I'm also aware that Eve is distant in this chapter, we don't know what's going through her mind, and that's kind of the point. I wanted to do this from from Oksana's perspective (it was weird referring to Eve exclusively as Dr Polastri) but the next part will give a little more insight to Eve's current mental state.
> 
> Thank-you for reading! Feedback fuels me, so feel free to leave some.
> 
> Have a wonderful weekend everybody!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's a little insight into what was going through Eve's mind leading up to the events of the previous chapter. It starts where we left Eve in Chapter 12 and then hops forward to the end of Chapter 13. I re-wrote it multiple times because it turns out that I don't like messing with the chronology of things. It's tricky. 
> 
> I hope it's not too confusing. Enjoy!

The night before her most recent appointment with Oksana, Eve had not slept well. Since the phone call to Bill she had felt… rattled. An uneasiness had settled over her and she couldn’t quite put her finger on its root cause. Or perhaps she might have been able to, if she’d had the time or the quiet to really ponder it. Her spur of the moment suggestion of pizza for dinner had been met by a rapturous response from Leo and frustration from Niko. It wasn’t that Eve didn’t _like_ Niko’s ‘Famous Shepherd’s Pie’ just that they had been subjected to it rather a lot over the years. And anyway, how was she supposed to know he had already prepared something?  
  
Eve had sailed through the evening, humouring Leo with a game of Go Fish on the living room floor whilst they both awaited the doorbell that would signal the arrival of dinner in all its greasy, cheesy, finery. Niko had watched from the sofa, ipad in hand, and offered occasional words of gaming advice to whoever seemed to be losing at any given moment. Eve focused entirely on the game, entirely on putting on an enthusiastic front for her son, entirely on avoiding acknowledging the knot of discomfort she could feel in her gut. Leo was convinced. Niko was not.  
  
At 7.30pm only a handful of crisped up pizza crusted remained of dinner. Leo’s cheeks had been wiped clean of oily smears before he had been tucked into bed with a story from Eve. And that knot of discomfort had grown to an unavoidable tangle. Eve tramped back down the stairs from Leo’s room, her feet feeling almost as heavy as her heart – not that Eve was admitting its weight – and re-joined Niko in the living room.  
  
“All tucked in?” Niko asked, lowering his ipad.  
  
“He’s exhausted, I think.” Eve nodded.  
  
“Or just full of pizza.” Niko remarked.  
  
Eve grunted noncommittally as she lowered herself onto the sofa next to Niko.  
  
“Want to talk about it?” Niko asked.  
  
Eve looked at him in confusion.  
  
“Talk about what?” She replied.  
  
“Whatever provoked the sudden desire for junk food, the animated game of Go Fish, reading the bedtime story…” Niko listed off.  
  
“I do the bedtime story sometimes!” Eve defended.

 “The phone-call in the car?” Niko suggested, ignoring Eve’s defence, with his eyes firmly fixed on her.  
  
So they had seen Eve in the car before Leo had banged on the window with the table tennis bat. Niko had seen her on the phone, had seen her reaction after ending the call. Eve huffed out a laugh.

“That was just work.” She responded, reaching for her book that she had spotted on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She hadn’t read a page of it in over a month, but suddenly she wanted something to look at other than Niko’s suspicious expression.

“Bad news?” Niko prompted, “You didn’t look too happy when we met you.”  
  
“Oh, a client has been misbehaving. Bill just called to keep me up to date.” Eve replied, attempting to keep her tone casual.  
  
Why was she feeling like she was being interrogated? She could just answer truthfully. She could say that her favourite client somehow managed to coerce a prison staff member into sex. And yet, Eve didn’t want to talk about that.  
  
“Bill?” Niko replied, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “I didn’t know you were working with him again.”

“Yeah. At the facility out in Hertfordshire. I told you that.” Eve mused, flipping through her book looking for the dog-eared page she last read.

“You didn’t tell me that.” Niko replied quietly.

“Are you sure?” Eve asked, “I thought I did.”

“No. Which client was it?” Niko probed.

“Hmm?” Eve mumbled, playing for time and casting around for her glasses.  
  
“Which client had been… misbehaving?” Niko clarified. “Your glasses are in the kitchen.” He added.  
  
‘Thanks.” Eve breathed and stood up to go and find the glasses in question. She knew Niko though, and he wasn’t about to let his question go unanswered.  
  
“Oh, it was Anthony,” Eve called over her shoulder as she left the room, “I told you about him, for sure. The cat strangler. Remember?”  
  
Niko didn’t reply, or at least if he did then Eve didn’t catch it. She reached the kitchen and pulled a glass from the cupboard and then ran the cold tap until it was icy. Her cheeks felt warm. She had just lied to Niko for no apparent reason. She was irritated by his persistent questions, so she lied to him. That wasn’t fair, and she knew it. He was only trying to be interested in her work after all.  
  
Eve ran her wrists under the cold tap and then filled her glass with water and returned to the living room. Niko had returned to his ipad and looked up as Eve entered.  
  
“You should invite Bill over for dinner.” Niko suggested as Eve took her seat next to him once more.  
  
“Uh… Sure. Yeah. We can do that. OK.” Eve agreed hesitantly, placing her water on a coaster on the coffee table.

“Or not?” Niko replied, eyeing Eve questioningly.  
  
“No! Yes. We should. That would be nice.” Eve nodded emphatically.

She liked Bill. He had visited the house before, albeit years ago, it wouldn’t be odd for her to invite him for dinner. It _felt_ odd though.

“Perfect. I’ll cook.” Niko said decisively.

“Thank God.” Eve muttered and Niko laughed good-naturedly before returning his attention to the screen in his lap.  
  
Eve sighed and glanced around the room before lifting her arm to check her watch. She felt restless. Yes, she was tired, but it felt as though if she let herself unwind then that feeling she had been trying to quell would manifest into something she didn’t want to address. She needed distraction.  
  
“Where are your glasses?” Niko asked, looking up from his ipad yet again.

Eve hadn’t brought her glasses back from the kitchen with her. She had meant to, but now she thought about it, reading wasn’t going to be enough to distract her from her thoughts. She reached for Niko’s ipad and pulled it out of his hands, throwing it gently onto the sofa cushion next to her. Niko looked at her in bemusement until she rearranged herself to climb into his lap where she settled herself and lifted her arms onto his shoulders, letting the fingers of one hand play with the hairs at the nape of his neck.  
  
“Do you know what we haven’t done in a while?” Eve asked teasingly.  
  
Niko smiled at her and pretended to think for a moment.  
  
“Well, Dr Polastri, I would say there’s a few things we haven’t done in a while.” He said, matching Eve’s tone.  
  
Eve leant down towards his ear.  
  
“Don’t call me that.” She whispered before pulling back slightly and redirecting her lips to his.  
  
  


Some time later, Eve remained awake. She was lying on her back in the bed she shared with Niko, who was snoring more loudly than usual next to her. Evidently their earlier activities had satisfied him into a deep sleep. Eve had had no such luck. She watched the expanse of Niko’s bare back rise and fall, rise and fall, before averting her gaze to the ceiling. The room was dark except for the light that filtered in from the yellow-y streetlamp outside, and the occasional sweeping illumination from the headlights of passing cars. Eve remembered when sex with Niko had been fun, had been intense, had felt... better, more connected. It wasn’t that it was bad now, just increasingly rare and more perfunctory than indulgent.  
  
Tonight’s dose of intimacy had been no different but it had served a purpose. Now though, there was no more distraction and Eve’s mind was wide-awake. The discomfort remained and sent intermittent waves of cloying heat through her body. It was anxiety. Eve knew that. She knew it from professional experience and she knew it from personal experience. And yet its cause was unclear. Why should Bill’s news of Oksana’s recovery fill her with anything other than a distant relief that her client was on the mend? It hadn’t though. It wasn’t distant relief, it was much… nearer than that. Eve had felt a swell of relief at Bill’s affirmation of Oksana’s recovery. This anxiety wasn’t stemming from there. It came from the latter part of the update.  
  
Oksana had slept with the nurse. She had convinced the nurse – a person whom Eve had not even met – into her bed, presumably, and she’d had sex with her. It was a gross overstepping of boundaries on the part of the nurse. By rights Eve should feel repulsed that someone in a medical capacity would do that. But she wasn’t repulsed, she was… sympathetic. She could understand how it happened. And that was unacceptable.  
  
Eve was not annoyed at the nurse. She was annoyed at Oksana.  
  
Oksana, who had been so weak in that hospital. So warm to the touch – though that could have been the remnants of fever – so funny despite her clear pain when Eve visited her, so obviously touched at the gift that Eve had put considerable effort into supplying. Oksana had held Eve’s hand in order that she stay with her. She had been vulnerable and Eve had _enjoyed_ her like that. Sure, Oksana had also been a little shit at times during the hospital visit, but Eve hadn’t minded. Oksana was spirited. That was the word Eve had used, almost affectionately, when she was talking to Bill earlier.  
  
What on earth was wrong with Eve? Now, lying awake in the early hours of morning, she took stock of her actions. Oksana had reeled her in, just like she must have done with that nurse. Well, not _exactly_ how she had with the nurse, but still… Eve had fallen for Oksana’s tricks. She had lapped up Oksana’s dynamic personality and amusing games. When Oksana had wound up in the hospital, Eve had been stricken with worry. Eve had rushed to visit her. That in itself was an absurd move. It seemed so clear to Eve now. How had she just ploughed on through, without stopping to wonder what the fuck she was thinking? And the gift! Jesus. Oksana had Eve wrapped around her manipulative little finger.  
  
It had to stop. Eve had to renew her grasp on professionalism and, apparently, reality. In the morning she would conduct her appointment with Oksana like she would with any other client. Because that’s exactly what Oksana was. There was nothing special or different about her, she was just another client. Eve would be cool, calm and collected. Oksana would just have to deal with it.  
  
And with a conclusion reached, with the uneasiness reclassified as anger, Eve finally closed her eyes and waited for sleep to take her over. And yet it didn’t. And the uneasiness remained. And Oksana had slept with that fucking nurse.  
  
  
  
The appointment had, briefly, gone to plan. Eve had caught sight of Oksana’s smiling face when she had first entered the room, and she had at once focused her attention on her notebook instead. She had been professional, she had asked a question, she had stated her purpose and she had… entirely underestimated Oksana Astankova. Did Eve really think it would be so easy to revert to a standard psychologist/client relationship? To put aside her anger at Oksana’s behaviour and carry out her job as she would with any other client? She must have been more sleep deprived than she had previously thought.

Eve’s brusque questioning had sparked Oksana’s ever-lurking rage and from there, the appointment had descended into petty quarrelling and slinging of insults and accusations. Tempers had frayed like old rope, the fibres snapping one by one until the tension had proved too much for the final thread. It was… not professional.

Oksana had accused Eve of jealousy. Which was, of course, ridiculous. And Eve had asked if she was insane. What kind of psychologist asks a client that? A terrible one. Not the kind of psychologist that Eve prided herself on being. The whole appointment had got out of hand, a wildfire had been sparked in the dry tinder of their interaction and Eve, supposedly the one in charge, had to attempt to bring it under control. The flames were beaten back, but Eve would prefer them extinguished altogether. Somewhere along the line she had behaved somewhat questionably after all, only now she wasn’t sure when that was. Was it the hospital visit and the gift that had blurred the lines, or the irrational response to Bill’s update? Jesus, surely Oksana didn’t have a point? There was no way Eve was jealous. No.

“Tell me your name.” Oksana said with a daring smile.

Eve was jolted from her thoughts. So it had come back to this, she mused, she should have seen it coming. Oksana was quite fixated on this redacted piece of information that she clearly deemed so imperative. Could it do any harm really? If Oksana had ready access to the internet, she could unearth Eve’s first name in a matter of seconds. And Eve knew Oksana’s name after all. When Eve thought about her client, she thought of her as ‘Oksana’ not ‘Astankova’. When she had breathed it out accidentally only a couple of moments earlier, it had felt good. Oksana was quite a beautiful name, the word felt nice to form on her tongue. Shouldn’t Oksana be allowed that privilege too? Eve didn't really think she was in any danger from Oksana. Besides, at this point Eve had classified Oksana, amongst other things, as impulsive and irritating, but had yet to see evidence of her being a genuine threat.  
  
“Eve.” Eve said, before the decision to divulge it had even fully formed in her mind.

Oksana’s smile slipped momentarily and then spread slowly until even her eyes were creased with it.  
  
“Eve.” She repeated, drawing the name out more quietly than Eve had ever heard her speak. “Thank-you.”  
  
Eve nodded and cleared her throat.

“It’s, uh, probably best not to call me that in front of Mr Pargrave.” Eve suggested with an awkward half-smile.  
  
“OK, Eve.” Oksana replied pleasantly.

And it was nice to hear, Eve realised. Her name on Oksana’s lips seemed right in a way that Eve hadn’t expected. None of her clients had called her anything but Dr Polastri. But, try as she might, it seemed Eve was incapable of treating Oksana like just another client.  
  
“Have you ever fucked him? Mr Pargrave?” Oksana asked, her tone that of somebody enquiring whether Eve had seen a recent film.

“What?” Eve gasped, “Of course not.”

“Good. I wouldn’t like it if you had.” Oksana replied earnestly.

Eve wanted to follow that up. It was in her nature to dig deeper when people, especially her clients, put forth little snippets of insight like that. Oksana wouldn’t like it if Eve had been intimate with Bill. There was a lot to unpack there. The statement was a psychologist’s dream, but Eve held herself back. She was painfully aware of the implication.  
  
Oksana’s earlier accusations had rubbed a raw nerve that Eve had been wilfully ignoring. Eve had not liked hearing that Oksana had slept with that nurse. That was the rock bottom root of it. And what did that suggest? Oksana was right. The signs all read ‘Jealousy’ in dazzling neon. Oksana may be comfortable enough to say that something physical between Eve and Bill would make her unhappy. But Eve was not willing to admit how that base human reaction was reflected in her own response to Oksana's little indiscretion. It was unethical.

Eve altered her position in her seat. She uncrossed her legs and then crossed them the other way. Truth be told she was a little sore. It had been a while since herself and Niko had done anything more than sleep in their bed, and Eve had rather had to hurry things along the night before, purely for distraction’s sake. Now, she was regretting it slightly. She probably could have been… readier. Eve shifted further back in her chair and winced minutely. Oksana’s eyes narrowed as they watched Eve. They were almost always on Eve. It was both unnerving and perhaps a little exciting.  
  
“How is your husband?” Oksana asked curiously. Eve, not for the first time felt like Oksana had just read her thoughts. It left her exposed. 

“He’s great.” Eve replied quickly, “But I think we’ve spent enough time discussing our respective… partners today.”

“I do not have a partner.” Oksana pointed out.

“No. OK.” Eve agreed. It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest that Oksana did have, according to her own words, a _lot_ of sexual partners. When Oksana had first said that, Eve had chalked it down to probable bravado. Now she wasn’t so sure. She didn’t want any further confirmation of it. Oksana, it seemed, really was able to guess where Eve’s mind had gone to.  
  
“Sex does not mean anything.” Oksana said authoritatively.

“What do you mean by that?” Eve asked, her curiosity piqued. This was an avenue of thought that she was happy to explore. This could even broaden her understanding of her client. Finally.  
  
“It doesn’t have to mean that you actually feel something for a person.” Oksana shrugged.

To Eve’s ears, that sounded akin to a kind of explanation, an excuse almost, for Oksana’s actions earlier in the week. 

“Well yes, casual sex is certainly one form of sexual intimacy.” Eve agreed. “Do you believe that sex can ever mean something?”  
  
Oksana thought it over.  
  
“It is useful. I use it to get what I want.” Oksana explained thoughtfully.  
  
“You use it for satisfaction and release?” Eve queried, that would make sense. Being imprisoned was undoubtedly a stressful way to live.

“No!” Oksana snapped. “For… information, protection… sometimes extra dessert when it is chocolate pudding day.”  
  
That, Eve had not been expecting.  
  
“It’s not great chocolate pudding, you know? But most of what we eat would not be fit for my father’s dogs back home.” Oksana mused, her lip curling back in disgust.  
  
“So sex is a commodity” Eve stated, disregarding Oksana’s chocolate pudding analysis. “It’s currency?”

“Yes.” Oksana approved.  
  
Eve longed to ask what Oksana had got out of fucking the nurse. She hankered after that information almost ravenously, but she reined herself in. That episode needed to be sectioned off with yellow tape and left untouched for closer inspection at another time. Or perhaps doused in petrol and set alight. So Eve tried a different tack.

“You told me once that if you had a partner, somebody to buy perfume for, you would know exactly what kind they would like. That sounded as though it would be quite an intimate relationship. Would sex be just a transaction in that scenario too?” Eve pressed.  
  
She was back in her element now. This exchange felt the closest to a regular appointment Eve had ever come with Oksana Astankova. Oksana Astankova who was smiling at her from the opposite chair with a look in her eye so intense that Eve wanted to look away but couldn’t.  
  
“Well, Eve,” Oksana started, speaking slowly and pronouncing Eve’s name purposefully, “In that scenario, I think sex would be very different.”

“How so?” Eve prompted.

“When you love someone, you just want to please them. You want to give them what they want. Lavish them with attention and affection. Worship their body. Being allowed to do so, that is the reward.” Oksana finished, her eyes still locked on Eve’s, but she was no longer smiling now, just watching.  
  
The hairs on Eve’s arms stood up and Eve finally broke eye contact with Oksana to pull the sleeves of her blazer down, glancing at her watch as she did so and forcing out a chuckle.  
  
“So, no chocolate pudding necessary then?” Eve asked, surprised at the ghost of nervousness in her voice.  
  
Oksana rolled her eyes, unimpressed.

“No, Eve. No chocolate pudding. Just _really_ good sex.” Oksana clarified, though it seemed a somewhat redundant clarification as far as Eve was concerned.  
  
There was a singular courtesy knock at the door before it opened and Bill stepped into the room.  
  
“Hello, hello,” He said jovially as he looked between the two women in the room and then adjusted his smiling face accordingly, “God it’s tense in here. Do you need a bit longer?”  
  
“No, no,” Eve rushed out, “I think we’re done for the day.”  
  
Bill nodded and then looked at Oksana expectantly. Oksana smiled sweetly.  
  
“I think we’ve made some real progress today,” she nodded innocently, “A couple of important revelations, wouldn’t you say, Dr Polastri?”  
  
Eve had no response to that but a tight-lipped nod in the affirmative. Oksana was right after all, important revelations had been made but they had left Eve feeling even more rattled that the day before.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains brief description of a violent act. It might be a little gross. Also, it picks up right where we left off last time.

It had not been the controlled appointment that Eve had planned, but at least it was over. Eve was ready to get back in her car and get the hell away from this room and the revelations that been made in it over the past hour. Her mind was blank and Eve knew what that meant, it was the quiet before the storm. Her brain was merely doing its preliminary processing before the rush of true realisation would wash over her. It was simply a matter of time, and Eve would rather be in the safety of her own space when reality hit. These days ‘her own space’ was more or less limited to her office and her car. It would have to do. She had a court appointment in a couple of hours time too, so time to feel overwhelmed was limited.

She leaned back in her chair and tried to keep her expression neutral as she watched Oksana stand from the seat opposite and cast Eve a final look before exiting through the door that Bill held open for her.

“Dr Polastri, have you got to shoot straight off?” Bill asked quietly, hovering in the doorway.

Eve looked up at him and felt a trickle of panic that she hoped didn’t show in her face.

“Not right away. What’s up?” She asked, her voice a higher pitch than usual. And why did she ask that? Bill wasn’t about to say anything at all in front of Oksana, who Eve knew was just out of sight, but definitely listening.

“Just… Just sit tight there while I take Astankova back and then maybe we can grab a coffee? It’s terrible coffee but I’ll throw in a KitKat?” He suggested with a smile.

“Sold.” Eve agreed, nodding faintly though feeling like she would far rather slip out of here before Bill returns. She had nothing to feel guilty about, and yet…  
  
“Great. Back in a tick.” Bill said, pulling the door shut behind him and leaving Eve alone in the room.

 

“Why do you need to speak to Dr Polastri?” Oksana demanded as soon as Bill followed her into the corridor.

“None of your business.” He replied.  
  
“But it’s about me. So it is my business.” Oksana shot back.

“Not everything revolves around Oksana Astankova.” Bill pointed out tiredly.

“She is _my_ psychologist, so it must be about _me_.” Oksana countered pointedly.

“Wrong.” Bill said simply. “She’s _my_ friend. Maybe I just want a catch up.” He added.

“Do you?” She prompted

“Yes. As it happens.” Bill replied.

“Oh.” Oksana let out. “Well, you can talk about me. Dr Polastri might want to.”

“How generous of you. And why would she want to do that?” Bill intoned curiously.

“She likes me.” Oksana shrugged.

“Who doesn’t?” Bill asked dryly. And it was a rhetorical question, but Oksana had no time for those.

“Only fools.” She said with a smile.

“Then I know a fair few fools.” Bill muttered.

“What was that?” Oksana demanded.

“Nothing.” Bill answered, with his best impression of Oksana’s own trademark shrug. She narrowed her eyes at him.  
  
“Can I have a KitKat?” Oksana asked optimistically.  
  
“No.” Came the firm response.  
  
  
  
Eve could feel her heartbeat. It was quicker than it needed to be, she decided. Bill probably didn’t have anything important to say. She hadn’t crossed any lines. They were overdue a friendly catch-up, that was all. Eve repeated that assurance to herself several times, and still her heart maintained its heightened tempo. Eve pulled off her glasses and tucked them into her bag. She flipped absent-mindedly through her notebook and considered jotting down a few notes from the previous hour.

But what would she write? That she had basically had an argument with her client? That she had called her names while her client pointed out that Eve probably had some kind of senseless crush on her. No. It would certainly not be a good idea to have that in writing anywhere. Eve also thanked her lack of sleep and emotional confusion for having forgotten to record her session with Oksana. No record at all of this particular day was fine by Eve.

Oksana. Who now knew her name. Who suspected Eve was jealous of her sexual conquests. Who didn’t like the idea of Eve and Bill together. Eve did have to fend off a laugh at that one. The idea of herself and Bill having any kind of romantic relationship was frankly ludicrous. Plus, Oksana knew Eve was married. And shit. _Eve_ knew she was married. She had been with the same man for a decade. They had a child together. She was… bored. But that was life. And sure, Niko had been particularly difficult about her job lately. Maybe that was why Eve was feeling this way about Oksana. Maybe Oksana was the distraction. Maybe Eve had confused professional interest – because Oksana was undeniably a fascinating character, and highly engaging – with something less appropriate.  
  
No. Even Eve knew that was a cop out. If the tables were turned, if someone that Eve was working with had behaved in the same way that Eve had today then she would know exactly what emotions had caused it. And they didn’t stem from the engaged concern of a certified psychologist.  
  
Jesus Christ. Eve had months left of working with Oksana. How the fuck was she supposed to handle that? Thank-God their meetings were in the monitored environment of this bland room with its shit plastic plant, its nearby prison guards and its camera on the… Eve glanced around the ceiling of the room. There was no camera. Well. That was neither here nor there. The possibility of being surveyed was not the relevant issue. Eve was not going to fall victim to Oksana’s wiles like that nurse. Eve was a woman with a meaningful career and a mostly happy home life. She was not about to throw that away on an impetuous infatuation with someone who, for all Eve knew, was only messing with her anyway. Oksana, lest Eve forget, is a fan of games after all.

The door swung open once more and Eve jumped as Bill strolled back in.

“Well,” he sighed with a smile, “That’s that. Coffee?”

“That’d be great.” Eve breathed, standing from her seat and looping her bag over her shoulder before following Bill out into the corridor. He headed off in a direction that Eve wasn’t familiar with, so she caught up and walked by his side.

“We’ll have to get it from the canteen, I’m afraid. It’s still crap coffee but it’s marginally better than the sludge from the vending machine.” He explained. Eve nodded.

“How’s Keiko?” Eve asked as Bill nodded to a guard who let them through a door and into a wider corridor.

“She’s good. She’s away at the moment. Taken the baby to her mother’s for some family gathering or another. I had to work, thankfully, because a baby on a plane? Yikes.” He finished and gave Eve a knowing look.

“Oh God. Don’t remind me. We took Leo to visit Niko’s family when he was a few months old. Absolute hell.” Eve laughed in agreement.

“Kids.” Bill murmured, “They’re lucky we love them, right?”

Eve nodded.

Bill pushed a door open and led the pair of them into a large room with long metal tables accompanied by metal benches, all screwed down to the floor. There were a few prisoners milling about, some were seated at the end of a table chatting animatedly and playing some kind of word game. Eve thought, not for the first time, how boring life in prison must be. She wondered how Oksana coped with it. She couldn’t quite picture the other woman with friends here.

There were a few more prisoners queuing at the canteen counter with trays, and Bill joined the end of the queue with Eve by his side.

“It’s a large prison, so they eat in shifts. Means it’s almost always mealtime for somebody.” Bill explained before Eve could ask why people seemed to be already having lunch.

Eve just nodded.

“And how is young Leo?” Bill asked, returning to their previous conversation. “Still giving you absolute hell? Or does it get easier? Please tell me it gets easier.” He finished and put his hands together in a begging position.

Eve laughed.

“He’s good. It gets easier, I promise. Although, I guess you should ask Niko really. I don’t do much of the day-to-day, you know, parenting stuff.” Eve trailed off.

“Well, we’re the lucky ones.” Bill replied with a wink. “You really never thought of giving it all up when you had him?” he asked, shuffling forward in the queue.

“Jesus, no.” Eve replied immediately. “I’d go mad.” She added.

Bill chuckled.

“Can’t have a mad psychologist.” He tutted.

They finally reached the counter and were faced by a prisoner waiting to serve them. She was slight with dark her and a neat, pointed, face.

“Ah, Nadia,” Bill said with a smile. “Not working in the library today?” He asked conversationally.

“Later. I swapped my shift for this afternoon.” She answered quietly and cast a measured look at Eve who smiled pleasantly in response.

“Very good.” Bill nodded, “Two coffees please.”

Nadia bowed her head slightly and turned her back on Bill and Eve to prepare their drinks. Eve was aware of the guard standing behind the counter as well, keeping an eye on proceedings. A moment later Nadia turned back around and placed two coffee cups, the flimsy cardboard variety, in front of Bill.

“Thank-you, Nadia.” He said, still smiling warmly at her, and picked up the coffees.

“Is Oksana back from her appointment?” Nadia rushed out just before Bill turned to leave.

Eve felt her eyes lock onto this other woman immediately. Bill paused for a moment, as though trying to decide whether to answer or not.

“She is, yes. She’s back in her cell, so I would imagine she is reading. I daresay you’ll see her later.” Bill assured the inmate.

“Thank-you, Mr Pargrave.” Nadia let out, sounding almost relieved. “I am meeting her in the library later.”  
  
“Well. That’s nice.” Bill said, as though he wasn’t quite sure why Nadia had told him that. Though Nadia herself seemed quite excited about the prospect.  
  
Eve was still considering the woman before her. A friend of Oksana’s perhaps? She seemed rather meek and a bit too eager. That would surely be irritating to Oksana. So, what? Another conquest? Was this woman Oksana’s type? Did Oksana have a type?

“Ready, Dr Polastri?” Bill asked, snapping Eve from her thoughts and looking at her in confusion.

“Oh. Uh, sure.” Eve replied and trailed after Bill once more.

Coffees in hand, they reached Bill’s office where he pulled out a chair for Eve before rounding his desk and dropping into his own desk chair. He wheeled it forward slightly, pulled open a drawer and rustled around for a moment before producing two KitKats.

“Don’t tell Keiko.” He same with a grin as he passed a KitKat to Eve.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Eve promised.

Bill unwrapped his KitKat and took a large bite.

“So, Eve,” he started, his voice mildly muffled by chocolate. “Is everything alright?”

Eve looked startled.

“Of course. Everything’s fine. Should it… not be?” She asked, confused. Her heartbeat was upping its tempo again.

“That’s good, that’s good. I just wondered, you know, because last night on the phone, you seemed a bit… abrupt?” He suggested.

A cold flood of anxiety seeped down Eve’s spine. God, she basically hung up on Bill the night before and she hadn’t even given it a second thought. How had she got this far without realising her behaviour surrounding all things Oksana was out of whack?

“Oh!” Eve gasped with a smile, “No. Bill! I’m so sorry, I was in the car and then Leo came home. He was looking upset so I ended the call quickly. God, that was rude. I’m so sorry!” She rushed.

Eve was thinking on her feet. That sounded believable, right?

Bill held up his hands as though in surrender.

“No need to apologise,” he said calmly, “I get it. Kids have the worst timing. I’m glad it was nothing else though.” He added, his voice was warm but his eyes remained carefully on Eve.

“He lost at table tennis,” Eve said with a roll of her eyes. “You would have thought someone ran over the cat.”

Bill laughed.

“And how are you getting on with Astankova?” He asked, taking a generous gulp of coffee. Eve followed suit, and fought the urge to grimace when she tasted it.

“Jesus. And this is the better coffee?” She asked.

“Afraid so.” Bill replied, “I’d say you get used to it, but… you don’t.”

“Not surprised.” Eve muttered. She was avoiding the question, and she knew it. Bill probably knew it too.

“So?” he prompted, “Astankova?”

Eve took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. She could get through this. Bill didn’t need to see how weird she was currently feeling about the whole situation.

“Well, she’s certainly unique.” Eve replied slowly.

“That’s being very diplomatic, Dr Polastri. I’d say she’s a little shit, who thrives on making our lives more difficult than they need to be.” Bill said with a smirk.

Eve laughed, she couldn’t help it.

“That too.” She agreed. “She’s got an attitude alright, but she’s also… amusing. You know? She can be very funny.” Eve said with a smile.

“I would agree with that.” Bill nodded. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget she chopped off her stepfather’s knob and chucked it in a frying pan while he bled to death on the kitchen floor.”  
  
Eve choked on her second misguided mouthful of coffee.

“Yes.” She croaked. “She, uh. She did do that.”

Because fuck. Yeah. That was Oksana’s crime. Spelled out in plain English. That was what Oksana had done.

“Although maybe ‘chopped off’ isn’t quite right,” Bill continued, “She used a bread knife, so it was probably more of a repeated slicing motion. Sort of carving.”

“I guess that would be accurate.” Eve replied hollowly, feeling bile rise in her throat at that particular image.

“She said at the time she had no intention of actually cooking his penis. So I imagine the frying pan was merely symbolic.” Bill added nonchalantly, “She did season it though. There’s that sense of humour again.” He finished with a shake of his head.

Eve no longer wanted her KitKat. She had read the police report, she knew all this. Why was Bill telling her again? Was she meant to laugh? Surely not. She didn’t feel like laughing. Eve took another swig of vile coffee.

“She’s complex, for sure.” She tried.

“Don’t let her pull you in, Eve.” Bill said, his tone changing as he leaned forward across the table. “She can be charismatic and charming and I’m sure she’s a psychologist’s wet dream.”

Eve pulled a face at that analogy.

“But she’s here for a reason. You only have to assess her readiness to leave.” Bill added earnestly.

Was he kidding? Did he think Eve was an idiot? _Was_ Eve an idiot?

“And that is exactly what I am doing.” Eve replied coldly. “I was going to ask you a few questions about her record while she’s been here, in fact,” Eve said with raised eyebrows.

It was a lie. She had thought of asking no such thing. Though she definitely should have done.

“But maybe you can just give me her prison file to read instead?” She asked firmly.

Bill sighed.

“Eve. I am not questioning you, I’m just warning you. Especially after the nurse…”

Eve barked out a laugh.

“I am not going to fall into bed with Oksana Astankova!” She let out, “Come on Bill, you’re joking right? I am married. I have a child. You _know_ me…”

Bill considered Eve for a moment and then deflated like a leftover party balloon.

“God. You’re right. I’m sorry Eve. I know you would never… I think I am just on high alert after Astankova’s latest exploit. And I know you’re fond of her.” He said apologetically.

“She’s my client, Bill.” Eve said resolutely, but raising her voice involuntarily. “I am just here to do my job.”  
  
And Eve hoped to God Bill wasn’t about to raise the fact that Eve had rushed to Oksana’s bedside in the hospital bay. Eve was running out of steam when it came to covering up her unusual actions.

“Of course. Of course.” Bill replied hurriedly, “I am sorry, that was completely unprofessional of me. I know you’re the best at this. I have every faith in you.”

“Thank-you.” Eve responded calmly. Though she felt like the biggest hypocrite alive.

“I’ll get her file emailed over to you this evening.” Bill promised.

“That would be great.” Eve replied with a small smile. She didn’t want things to be uncomfortable between herself and Bill. “And out of interest, what do you think?” She asked curiously.

“About?” Bill prompted.

“Oksana. Do you think she would do something like that again?” Eve asked.

Bill considered the question.

“I would worry if she ended up back with her father and his… associates.” Bill said slowly.

Eve must have looked confused because he continued.

“He is the head of one of the most violent crime syndicates in Russia. A gang, basically.” Bill explained. “Dismembering an enemy would be nothing out of the ordinary for Anton Astankova, though I imagine he has people to do that for him.”

Eve mulled that new information over.

“He is in prison though, right?” Eve asked.

Bill laughed.

“For now, yes. But the Astankovas have a certain sway when it comes to how things work over there. Apparently the other members scattered somewhat after Anton’s arrest, but still, he’s unlikely to serve his full sentence.” He mused.

“And he will want Oksana back?” Eve asked.

Bill eyed Eve pertinently and Eve realised her mistake. She had called her ‘Oksana’ again.

“They were close. We have all her post translated and monitored. But so far, he hasn’t reached out.” Bill explained and Eve hummed.

“Maybe they’re not so close now?” She suggested.

“It seems not. But who knows.” Bill sighed, “Perhaps she’ll tell you.”  
  
“Doubt it,” Eve snorted, “She is hardly the most forthcoming. She’s more into asking me personal questions than answering any of mine.” She lamented.

“Ah, that’s our Astankova. Has she asked you if we’ve slept together yet?” Bill enquired, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Yes! Oh my God.” Eve let out, shaking her head in disbelief. “Jesus, can you imagine?”

“I’d rather not actually. No offence, Eve.” Bill laughed.

“None taken. Trust me.” Eve assured him, chuckling softly.

“We’re good?” Bill checked, after they had both regained composure.

“We’re good,” Eve agreed. “But this coffee is really not.” She added with a disdainful look into the murky depths of her coffee cup.

“Don’t drink it then,” Bill laughed.  
  
“I won’t,” Eve rebuked, “I have to go anyway if I am going to be back in town in time to… No. Fuck! It’s nearly 12?”

“Yes…” Bill drew out the word.

“Shit!” Eve hissed standing up abruptly. “I’m going to be so late. I have to be in court this afternoon.” She rambled, spinning around and grabbing her bag. “Sorry Bill, I have to run.”

“Sounds like it,” Bill breathed, standing up as well. “Court, huh? You didn’t let the wrong one out, did you?” He joked.

 Eve rolled her eyes.  
  
“Not my case, I’m just consulting.” She clarified. “See you next week!” Eve threw over her shoulder, “Thanks for the awful coffee.”

“Anytime.” Bill called after her.

Eve stumbled out of Bill’s office, pulling the door closed behind her. She turned abruptly into the hallway beyond and almost immediately collided with someone else.  
  
“Oof! Sorry.” Eve expelled, putting a hand out against the other person’s shoulder to steady them both.  
  
“No, my fault,” came the timid response.  
  
Eve got a look at the person she had bumped into.

“Nadia.” She said blankly.  
  
“Yes.” The other woman nodded.  
  
“Right. Uh. Sorry about that.” Eve said again.  
  
“Don’t worry, Dr Polastri.” Nadia said softly.  
  
Eve nodded and carried on her hurried way down the corridor, casting one questioning look over her shoulder as she went.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Lying back on her bunk and assessing, as she had done thousands of times before, the rabbit-shaped watermark on the ceiling, Oksana was feeling somewhat pleased with herself. It wasn’t an unusual feeling for her. She had a lot to be pleased with herself about. Presently though, that feeling was more prevalent than any other. She had been, in part, winging it when she accused Dr Polastri of being jealous. She hadn’t truly allowed herself to believe that suggestion until she had witnessed Dr Polastri’s reaction to her words. Only it wasn’t Dr Polastri anymore. It was Eve.   
  
The name suited her, Oksana decided. The first woman. Well, if you didn’t count Lilith, and it seemed that these days most didn’t. Lilith seemed to go widely unmentioned, like a regrettable belch that was best left unremarked upon. Oksana had read about Lilith when she had been scraping the barrel of books on offer in the prison library. Oksana had felt a kinship with her. Or maybe it was empathy. If Oksana were capable of such a thing.  
  
Eve, however, Oksana had felt she had less in common with. Oksana wouldn’t have been coerced into eating that apple. Oksana would have been the serpent.   
  
Yes, the name suited Dr Polastri. And Eve Polastri was jealous. Oksana didn’t bother to fight the satisfied smirk that spread her across her lips. Perhaps there was a hope then that Oksana could enact some of her recently developed fantasies, perhaps Eve would be susceptible after all. Oksana would simply have to find the best way to tempt her and then she could have what she wanted. There was nothing Oksana liked more than that, simply getting what she wanted. Oksana wanted her freedom and Eve Polastri. One seemed still as unattainable as ever, but the other was coming into focus. The idea of having Eve in her grasp was a pleasant one. To fill her nostrils with the scent of that perfume and her arms with the warmth of the other woman. Yes, that would be nice.   
  
More immediately though, Oksana needed a new book. She had long since finished Pargrave’s most recent donation to her own private library and now she was left with no choice but to return to the prison’s motley selection of literature. She needed to go now if she was going to pass the afternoon in her cell reading in solitude and ruminating on her morning with Eve. There was a slight problem though. She had told Nadia she would meet her in the library. And Nadia, eager as a bumbling new puppy, would not miss their rendezvous. Oksana rolled her eyes. She would just have to get in and out as quickly as possibly. Literally speaking, of course.   
  
And so Oksana made her way to the library. In the daytime, the inmates in her wing of the prison were mostly allowed to make use of the communal areas within the building as they pleased. They remained closely monitored by guards of course, and some were more agreeable than others. Needless to say Oksana, for the most part, stuck to her cell with occasional visits to acquaintances when the urge struck or she needed something. Inmates were allowed an hour a day in the outside air of the exercise yard (weather permitting) and were marched out in groups dictated by their cell numbers. Oksana never missed that hour if she could help it.  
  
The library was quiet, as is the tradition. Its rows of books were housed on metal shelves with the white paint flaking off in chips from years of use. The floor was covered with a brown industrial carpet, hard and thin, through which the concrete beneath was easily discernible. There were a variety of suspicious stains on the carpet and Oksana knew from experience that its rough texture could leave vicious friction burns.

 

Oksana pushed through the double doors to gain entry to the library after winking flirtatiously at the guard stationed there out of pure habit. Inside the library the prison librarian looked up as Oksana appeared and he smiled faintly.  
  
“You’re back.” He said.

“Obviously.” Oksana replied.

“And feeling better.” He added.  
  
Oksana shrugged.  
  
“Got anything new?” She asked, stepping over to the librarian’s desk and placing both palms flat on it, leaning over the young man.  
  
“Uh…” He started, “A couple of boxes came in. A house clearance I think. How do you feel about tropical fish?”   
  
Oksana groaned. A fair amount of the library’s book stock came from house clearances. Books piled indiscriminately into boxes when a person died and nobody could be bothered to go through the belongings in their home. These books were often of dubious quality, Oksana had learnt that over the years.  
  
“I do not want to read a lonely dead man’s book about shitty fish.” Oksana explained scathingly.

“How do you know they came from a man?” The librarian queried. Oksana sighed.

“Only men keep those stupid fish. I don’t know why. Probably something about control. Controlling the temperature, collecting the different colours, making them breed. It is sad.” Oksana rattled off.  
  
“OK…” The librarian drawled unconvinced.   
  
“Do you have tropical fish?” Oksana asked.  
  
The librarian cleared his throat and averted his eyes.  
  
“You do!” Oksana declared. “Sad little man.” She added.  
  
“There’s more to it than controlling the—” He began.  
  
“Whatever,” Oksana cut him off, disinterested, “Any novels?”   
  
“Another Thomas Hardy.” The librarian sighed.  
  
“Ugh.” Oksana huffed, “Miserable English countryside crap.” She lamented.  
  
“You don’t have to read it.” The librarian mumbled.  
  
“No, no, I’ll read it. Where?” Oksana demanded.

“On the shelf already.” The librarian nodded towards the meagre fiction section.   
  
“Thank-you,” Oksana replied tunefully, drawing out the second word and offering the librarian a winning smile before whisking away in the direction he had indicated.  
  
  
Oksana was running her finger along the spines of the books beyond the colourful ‘H’ divider when she felt a presence at her elbow. That hadn’t taken long.   
  
“Hey.” Came Nadia’s voice.   
  
“Hello.” Oksana replied, not bothering to actually look at the woman to her side.

“I wasn’t sure you would come.” Nadia breathed.

“Well, here I am.” Oksana shrugged, finding the book she was looking for and pulling it off the shelf.

“How was your appointment?” Nadia enquired.

Oksana smiled, though she still didn’t look at Nadia, her eyes raked over the blurb on the back of the book in her hand.

“It was very nice.” Oksana said, smile still in place.  
  
“Oh.” Nadia let out, a note of surprise in her voice.

Oksana took a couple of steps along the shelf and picked up another book. She had read it before, but not for a couple years. Nadia followed closely, close enough that Oksana could hear her breathing.

“It was with the psychologist, wasn’t it?” Nadia asked.  
  
Oksana frowned.  
  
“How do you know that?” She said lowly. She hadn’t told Nadia that. She had simply said she had an appointment, enjoying the air of mystery she had cultivated around it.  
  
“I met her.” Nadia said simply.

Oksana finally looked at the woman next to her.

“What?” She growled.

“Yes. Dr Polastri, right?” Nadia offered, somewhat excitedly.

“You do not have a psychologist.” Oksana accused.

“Oh, no.” Nadia agreed, “She came to the canteen. With Pargrave.” She explained.

“I know,” Oksana replied hurriedly. She didn’t know they had gone to the canteen. But she didn’t want Nadia to have more information than she did. Not about this. Not about Eve.

“For coffee.” Nadia added.

“Yes.” Oksana snapped. “So?”

“Nothing.” Nadia replied quickly. “I just thought you might like to know.” She offered quietly.

“I already knew that.” Oksana shot back.

“OK. Sorry.” Nadia replied softly.

Oksana returned to her perusal of the books in her hand and Nadia turned to lean her shoulders against the shelf behind her. A thought niggled at Oksana until she had to voice it or she would spend the afternoon wondering.  
  
“Were they talking about me?” Oksana asked, trying to keep her tone casual, and her eyes on her books.  
  
“No.” Nadia replied simply.

Oksana didn’t know how to feel about that. But she didn’t have time to investigate her response further before Nadia spoke again.

“They were talking about a… Liam? And Niko. I think Niko.” Nadia said slowly, as though she was trying to remember exactly what she had heard.  
  
Oksana’s eyes flicked away from the words they were pretending to read. One of those names might belong to Eve’s husband. Liam. Or Niko.   
  
“Oh right,” Oksana shrugged lightly, “Yeah, I know what that was about.”   
  
Nadia looked a little disappointed, not that Oksana would have noticed. Oksana moved yet further down the shelf and Nadia followed again, matching Oksana step for step.   
  
“Do you want me to read to you?” Nadia asked after a moment or two in silence.

“No thank-you,” Oksana murmured. Nadia sighed and rocked forward on the balls of her feet before leaning back against the shelf once more.

“I heard them in Pargrave’s office too.” Nadia said suddenly.   
  
“Oh?” Oksana mused.

“Sounded like the were arguing or something.” Nadia said leadingly whilst studying the nails on her left hand and then sneaking a look at Oksana to see if her tempting information had landed.  
  
“Arguing?” Oksana asked, her curiosity piqued and her desire to seem uninterested forgotten.

“Well, there were raised voices. That’s why I stopped outside the door.” Nadia explained.  
  
“And what did they say?” Oksana asked curiously.   
  
“Um…” Nadia started, taking a deep breath and flitting her eyes towards the ceiling as though casting her mind back. “She said, ‘I am just here to do my job’, and then he said that he was sorry and he had been unprofessional or something.”  
  
Oksana’s eyebrows rose dramatically.

“Anything else?” She bit out through clenched teeth.

“Well, they stayed in there for a while, but I couldn’t hear much else.” Nadia confessed, “Then the woman, Dr Polastri sort of burst out of the door and crashed into me. She was in a hurry to get away.”   
  
Oksana felt her hand that wasn’t holding her books clench into a fist. So Pargrave had been unprofessional towards Eve? He had made her stay behind, taken her to his office and what? Made a pass at her? Oksana felt a burst of fury erupt somewhere within her.  
  
“Are you pleased?” Nadia asked keenly, her voice irritatingly close to Oksana’s ear.  
  
“Pleased?” Oksana spat, spinning to be face-to-face with Nadia’s wide eyed expression.  
  
“That I stayed. And listened.” Nadia clarified nervously.   
  
God, she was annoying. So subservient and eager for praise.  
  
“So pleased,” Oksana husked, smiling sweetly at Nadia and leaning towards her, forcing Nadia back against the shelf and standing in front of her, so close that they were sharing body heat.  
  
Nadia swallowed, her throat bobbing visibly and Oksana leaned in even closer until they were eye to eye. Oksana watched as Nadia’s eyes closed.  
  
“Good girl.” Oksana whispered, her lips brushing Nadia’s as she spoke.   
  
Nadia whimpered pitifully and Oksana lifted an arm and reached behind Nadia to replace a book onto the shelf just to the left of her before pulling back entirely and striding away down the aisle of bookshelves.  
  
Nadia’s eyes shot open and she looked in confusion for a moment before catching sight of the retreating form of Oksana Astankova. She leant back heavily and sighed.   
  
  
  
Eve had scrambled her way through her presentation in court. She was standing as an expert witness. It was a good side-line for her, offering her professional opinion on cases that didn’t involve clients of her own. Normally she breezed through these things. Today she had been distracted. Her presentation had been shot through with ums and ahs and more than once she had needed to refer to her notes. It was sloppy and Dr Polastri didn’t do sloppy.  
  
She had edged her way home through the usual traffic and finally fallen in through the door just past six p.m. That was apparently half an hour later than she had promised, but in the grand scheme of things, what was half an hour really?  
  
There had been family dinner of delayed shepherd’s pie from the night before, during which Leo had loudly announced that he thought he preferred pizza really. Eve had stifled her laughter and Niko had explained why a balanced diet was very important. Now Eve was in her home office, her email open before her as she watched the promised prison file of Oksana Astankova download onto her desktop. It was a fair few pages.

This was her client, she told herself. Over the years she’d had hundreds of clients. There was nothing different about this one. Apart from the fact that the good Dr Polastri found herself undeniably drawn to the woman. Was it attraction? Jesus. Probably. It was certainly something.  
  
Eve opened the file. The first page included a more recent photo of Oksana than the eight-year-old mugshot Eve had first seen, along with Oksana’s basic information. Eve began to scroll through the following pages. The record spanned eight years. The early years were spattered with bouts of visits to solitary confinement, with attacks on guards and refusal to obey rules. There was one particularly violent assault on another inmate that had seen Oksana break the other woman’s nose and fracture her eye socket. The guard that had broken up the altercation noted that Oksana had been laughing when she had finally been pulled off of the other inmate. Yeah, that didn’t sound great.  
  
Over the years though, the violent episodes decreased. The visits to solitary confinement all but ceased, and the reports from guards seemed more positive, or perhaps just less negative. Oksana Astankova was nobody’s favourite inmate. She was rude and obstinate. She was inappropriate and disagreeable. But the reports made her seem less dangerous. It was her attitude that troubled the guards, not her actual behaviour.  
  
There were a couple of incident reports detailing fraternisation with other inmates. Sex. Eve thought blankly. Why don’t they just call it that? It wasn’t unusual for prison residents to find ways to get intimate with one another. Though Oksana’s record did seem more littered with those kinds of exploits than others Eve had read. So Oksana hadn’t been exaggerating. That was an uncomfortable discovery.  And were these incidents transactions like Oksana said? Did she trade sex for something in return? There was no way of knowing from the scant information on the screen. And could Eve simply trust that it was the case because Oksana had said so? No. Of course she couldn’t. But she wanted to. Eve scrolled back up to the first page of Oksana’s file, ready to read it through more closely in case she had missed anything.   
  
The door to the study closed behind Eve. It had been standing open. Eve minimised the file on her computer swiftly, though if asked she wouldn’t have been able to say why.

“Busy?” came Niko’s voice.

Eve let out a long breath and leant back in her chair.

“Just reviewing a case file.” She said softly. “Do you need something?”  
  
She heard Niko take a couple of steps across the office floor and then felt his large, warm hands on her shoulders. Eve had always thought of them as kind hands, they weren’t rough like some men’s hands, and they were capable of creating beautiful paintings. This evening though, she didn’t want them on her.

“Maybe.” He said teasingly.

His fingers began to rub circles into Eve’s shoulders and she felt herself tense them in response.

“Remember when I used to give you massages?” Niko said lowly.

“Yeah.” Eve nodded.  
  
Niko’s fingers continued to work and Eve continued to feel tense. Niko chuckled.

“Feels like you could use one now.” He suggested.

Eve propelled herself forwards a little on her wheeled office chair, Niko’s hands slipping from her shoulders as she did so.

“I need to finish this.” Eve said apologetically. “Sorry.” She added for good measure.

“I thought you were just reviewing something?” Niko asked, a little perturbed.

“Well yeah, it’s still something I need to do though.” Eve replied, matching Niko’s tone.

“Something you need to do.” He repeated. “Right now. At 9pm. On a Thursday.”

Eve said nothing, just scrolled uselessly through her emails as though looking for a particular one.

“Is it that client in Hertfordshire?” Niko asked.

“Who?” Eve replied in confusion.

“The client in Hertfordshire, where Bill works. What did you say his name was?” Niko pressed.

“Oh, right.” Eve nodded. “Yeah, it’s him. Alex.”   
  
“Alex.” Niko said. “OK. Did you see Bill today?” 

“Mmm?” Eve mumbled, “Oh, yeah. I did.”  
  
“And did you ask him to dinner?” Niko pushed.  
  
“Oh shoot,” Eve let out, “I totally forgot. I will do it next week, OK?” She cast a glance over her shoulder and just caught Niko’s disgruntled look.  
  
“Fine. Don’t forget it’s dinner with the Austins next Thursday though.” Niko reminded her.   
  
And, yeah, she had forgotten.  
  
“I haven’t forgotten.” Eve assured him.  
  
There was a stretching silence while Eve could feel Niko still standing behind him, feel his eyes burning into the back of her head. She span around in the chair and took hold of both of Niko’s hands.

“Sorry darling. I’ll just be another hour or so.” She said softly, lifting one hand and then the other to her mouth for a passing kiss. “Then you’re right, a massage would be wonderful.” She smiled.

Niko studied Eve’s face for a moment or two, and then pulled his hands from her grasp.

“Actually I’m pretty tired.” He said monotonously. “I think I’ll just clear up the kitchen and head to bed.”

“Oh.” Eve said in a tone of surprise, “Well, OK, if you’re tired.”   
  
“Goodnight, Eve.” Niko said, turning to leave the room.

“Uh… Goodnight.” Eve replied. She watched Niko leave the room and pull the door closed behind him; he didn’t spare her another look.

Eve turned back in her chair and brought Oksana’s prison file back to the forefront of her screen.


	17. Chapter 17

It took a couple of days of careful consideration for Oksana to come up with a plan. She had been stewing in the information passed on from Nadia, letting her anger bubble and thicken over time. Pargrave told Eve he was sorry, that he had been unprofessional. Oksana had concocted a vision of Eve stumbling out of his office and hurrying away, distressed by his advances. Oksana had never imagined Pargrave as that type of man, the type to use his authority to get what he wanted, to ask a colleague into his office and make her feel uncomfortable. Oksana had always quite liked Pargrave. Still, it just went to show that you really should never trust anyone. Another teaching from her father proved truthful.  
  
Oksana didn’t care for men who overstepped their boundaries. Or women. But mostly men. And to upset Eve? Well, that was unacceptable. Eve presented herself as an unflappable professional. Only Oksana was allowed to… flap her? Was that the phrase? Probably not. Even after all this time, and all the lessons from her childhood, there were still some English phrases that were just tangled nonsense when you tried to pick them apart. Eve was Oksana’s though, if anyone was going to coerce her into an inappropriate liaison it would be Oksana, not Pargrave. Oksana was young and beautiful and exciting. What was Pargrave? Nothing. Not even the nice guy Oksana had thought he was.   
  
The fact of the matter was that actions have consequences and Oksana had deliberated and decided on a consequence for Pargrave. She just needed a little help in securing a tool for the job. And that was why at this precise moment she was loitering in the canteen, watching discretely over the top of her nearly finished Thomas Hardy novel, and waiting for a card game to wrap. The canteen had emptied out since the last meal, leaving only a few inmates milling around in clusters. Oksana had seated herself purposefully at the opposite end of the long metal table, far enough away to be noticeable but not suspicious. And she had been noticed. Oksana was always noticed for one reason or another.

Finally the game at the other end of the table seemed to break up as one inmate from the group leant back in victorious posturing and began collecting up the cards as the others stood up and shuffled away, defeated. Now was Oksana chance. She turned the corner of the page she had not been reading and slid fluidly from the bench into a standing position before slinking down towards the other end of the table.

“Renate.” Oksana said as she reached her destination and leaned casually against the table beside the seated woman.

The other woman pretended she hadn’t seen Oksana and continued shuffling her cards expertly.

“Not talking to me, hmm?” Oksana pressed.  
  
“I got a week in solitary because of you.” Came the grumbled reply.

“You did stab me, Renate.” Oksana pointed out with a pout but no malice.

“And you know why I done it.” Renate replied, looking up furiously at last.

“I know,” Oksana cooed, nodding. “And I have thought about it.” She added.

Renate narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Oksana and waited for her to say more.

“It was nasty of me to reject you like that.” Oksana explained sympathetically.

“You shouldn’t of called me fat.” Renate agreed.

Oksana didn’t agree, but she would keep that to herself.

“I know.” Oksana nodded understandingly. “It was unkind. And we all have… needs. Don’t we, Renate?” Oksana asked instead.

Renate grunted.

“I wondered, do you still have that need?” Oksana questioned silkily, “Is there still an itch I could scratch for you?” she asked, catching Renate’s eye and holding it pointedly.

Renate swallowed and Oksana watched as her gaze moved down and then back up Oksana’s form appreciatively. Oksana fought her urge to laugh at Renate’s hungry look. It was comical though, this huge woman slathering over her. Oksana wondered if she would have to make Renate promise not to get carried away and take an actual bite out of her. Not that Oksana was intending to let Renate do much of any touching at all.   
  
“Maybe.” Renate said carefully at last.  
  
Oksana didn’t know whether to rejoice or groan at the now solidifying prospect of having to pleasure this woman in return for what she wanted.  
  
“Good, good.” Oksana purred instead. “Well, as it happens,” Oksana started as she picked up a plastic spoon that had been left on the table and began to twirl it in her fingers, “I have a need too.” Oksana finished, her eyes on the spoon and then flicking up to meet Renate’s.  
  
Renate looked between the spoon and Oksana, remembering the moment that she had jammed a similar but re-appropriated spoon into the other woman’s abdomen.  
  
“You want to stab me back?” Renate asked loudly.

Oksana sighed in frustration and dropped the spoon back onto the table with a clatter. She cast her eyes around the canteen warily, but nobody seemed to have heard Renate’s outburst.

“No.” She drawled, forcing herself to be patient, “I want you to get me one like you had. You know, sharpened and… dangerous.” She explained under her voice.  
  
“You want a shiv.” Renate concluded.

“Exactly,” Oksana smiled sweetly.

“They are my specialty.” Renate mumbled proudly. “But it’s not for me, right?” She demanded, raising her voice again.

“Of course not!” Oksana exclaimed, wide-eyed. “I would never.” She promised earnestly

There was no reason to believe her at all, and in fact Oksana judged the woman opposite for being dumb enough to accept her answer, but that is what seemed to happen.

“Alright.” Renate grunted. “A shag for a shiv.” She laughed.  
  
Oksana laughed too and cringed inwardly.

“Exercise yard tomorrow.” Renate said, “Dalton will be on duty and he’s thick as pig shit, won’t notice if we slip behind the offices.”  
  
Oksana already knew that, had already factored the when and where into her own plan. Renate so far was making this easier than she had anticipated. Clearly this large woman had heard of Oksana’s talents and wanted to try them out for herself. Oksana had counted on that. Had counted that the promise of the Oksana Astankova experience would outweigh any lingering anger that the other woman was harbouring.  
  
“I will look forward to it.” Oksana lied softly. She could have winked, but decided that would have been overkill.   
  
“Oh, me too. Me too.” Renate replied luridly, sparing another appraisal of Oksana’s chest.  
  
Oksana smiled as convincingly as she could and walked away. The smile dropped from her face as it morphed into the kind of expression a child would have when it was told to eat its vegetables. The things Oksana was willing to do for Dr Eve Polastri.

 

 

Eve had read Oksana’s prison record three times over now. She had it mostly memorised and she had drawn some conclusions from it. It seemed that Oksana’s behaviour had been steadily improving during her time at the institution. There had been that one particularly violent altercation early on in her sentence and Eve wanted to ask Bill about that, see if he knew what caused it. Whatever it was must have been something particularly close to the bone for Oksana, as it seemed she had got herself into very few fights since then.

Eve wanted to pick Bill’s brain. He had been adamant that Eve remains wary of Oksana, and yet her record showed that for years she had been difficult, yes, but not dangerous. There were questions circulating Eve’s mind that she longed to put to her friend, he would hold so many of the answers that she clamoured for. And yet, could she ask them? Would she seem too interested? Too caught up in Oksana’s web? Bill was already suspicious and Eve had managed to douse his doubts in cold water for now, but could she remain convincing? And was it worth the risk? Her unwanted feelings for Oksana were becoming impossible to ignore and harder to deny, even to herself, but she could get through the next few months without crossing any lines. She had to.   
  
Perhaps Oksana herself would answer the questions Eve had. At times the other woman was open to Eve’s enquiries. At times she was a total arsehole too. But Eve did have one other trick up her sleeve. Oksana’s game from weeks ago had never been played and maybe it was time for that. Oksana was bound to enjoy it and maybe Eve could use it to her advantage. She had to be careful though, it was a game with two players after all and, like most games, there could only be one winner.  
  
Eve was at the kitchen table cradling a cup of coffee and half reading the newspaper while Leo was performing his morning task of feeding the goldfish in the garden pond. It was a task he took very seriously. Eve was occasionally tempted to point out that when they went on holiday the fish seemed to cope without their morning feed, but she always bit her tongue. Boots was prowling around the patio outside the opened back door and Eve watched as she chased a stray leaf that skittered across paving on a breeze.

“THERE’S A FROG!” Leo yelled from the garden.

Eve looked up at his voice and saw her son jump excitedly a few times at the edge of the pond.  
  
“THERE’S A FROG!” he screamed again before taking off at top speed towards the opened back door.  
  
Eve had already stood, coffee in hand to come and see the visitor to the goldfish pond, so she saw almost in slow motion as Leo came charging across the patio, eyes wide with exhilaration and yet failing to see the crouching cat in his path. Boots yowled indignantly as Leo tripped over her and went sprawling onto the paving slabs, skidding a couple of inches on his knees before coming to a stop. There was a moment of stunned silence before he burst into tears both pained and angry.   
  
Eve dropped her mostly empty coffee mug onto the table and strode swiftly out the backdoor. She crouched down to her sobbing son and reached to pull him into a hug.

“You’re alright.” Eve said calmly. “Let me see.” she reached for the nearest grazed knee. It was bleeding and had a few bits of grit in it. She winced.  
  
“I’m _not_ alright!” Leo wailed before dissolving into more tears.  
  
Eve shushed him gently and tried to pull him into a tighter hug, rocking him slightly in her arms. Leo pulled away, pushing Eve’s arms from around him roughly.

“Where’s dad?” he gasped through his tears. “I want dad.” He hiccupped.   
  
Eve glanced up at the house.  
  
“He was just getting dressed. He should be down in a minute.” She said, “Why don’t we clean up these knees? Then you’ll feel better.” She suggested.

“Dad can do it.” Leo decided. “You always make it hurt.”  
  
That didn’t seem quite fair but Eve knew better than to argue with a distressed child. And there were still tears streaking down Leo’s reddened face. Eve smoothed them away with the back of her hand, but more followed.   
  
“What’s all this?” Came Niko’s voice from the backdoor.   
  
“He tripped over the cat.” Eve explained.

“The cat tripped me up!” Leo corrected furiously.  
  
“Oh dear,” Niko said gravely as he came to crouch by Leo and took a look at his knees thoughtfully, first one, then the other. “I think we’re going to have to amputate.” He said at last with a sigh and a shake of his head.  
  
“No!” Leo exclaimed, but his tears had slowed and there was a hint of laughter in his voice.   
  
“I’m afraid so, son.” Niko nodded solemnly. “But did you at least enjoy your trip?” he asked.

Leo laughed properly this time, letting out his usual shrieking laughter and sending a bit of wayward snot flying.  
  
Eve rolled her eyes. Such a dad joke. She stood up from the ground and dusted off her trousers before returning to finish her coffee.

“Come on Lionman, let’s get these knees cleaned up before school.” Niko said.

“Wait!” Leo replied, as though he hadn’t been bawling just a moment earlier, “Come and see the frog first.”  
  
Back in the kitchen, Eve checked her watch. She had better leave now. She had a long morning of meetings and an appointment with a client before driving out to Hertfordshire to see Oksana. Their usual morning appointment had been moved to the afternoon due to some visiting speaker at the prison who was coming to give a talk on drug abuse. Eve didn’t see why Oksana needed to attend that. She wasn’t in prison for drug offences and didn’t seem the type to go that way on release from prison. If she got parole, that is.   
  
“See you later!” Eve called into the garden.  
  
“Don’t forget dinner with the Austins!” came Niko’s response from over by the pond.  
  
God, he had told her enough times, Eve thought. She couldn’t forget if she tried.  
  
“Bye Leo!” Eve called.   
  
“Yeah!” Leo called back distractedly, waving a fishing net they had bought him at the seaside last summer.   
  
The frog was in for a rough morning too.   
  
  
  
Oksana would gladly never think about her rendezvous with Renate behind the offices ever again. It had certainly been the most unpleasant of her trade deals so far, and she had hoped that Renate would carry out her end of the bargain then and there too. But alas, apparently it took longer than 24 hours to secure what was necessary for Oksana’s weapon of choice. Well, not choice exactly. In better circumstances she would opt for a real knife, like the one she had received as a thirteenth birthday present from her father, rather than a sharpened prison spoon. But needs must.   
  
The outcome was that Oksana had been left with no means of attack but a desperate need to shower and brush her teeth in the middle of the day. That was OK, she decided, she could wait. She had become very good at waiting. Right now, for example, she was waiting for Pargrave himself to come and collect her to take her to her appointment with Eve. Oksana hadn’t thought too much about it, her mind had been focused on carrying out justice rather than the wild-haired woman who had been consuming her thoughts the week prior. But now, with the imminent prospect of seeing her again, that unfamiliar warmth had taken up residence in the very core of her. And it wasn’t desire. Well, not entirely. Desire was certainly there, but this was closer to… affection?  
  
“Astankova?” Came a cautious voice from below the bunk on which Oksana was lying.   
  
She rolled onto her side and peered over the edge of the bunk. She hadn’t heard anyone come into her cell. Had she been that caught up in thoughts of Eve that she hadn’t even felt the vibrations of the door grating on its metal hinges?

“Pargrave?” She replied mimicking his tone and eyeing him studiously.  
  
She had seen him in passing a couple of times since Nadia’s little spying spree. She had tried to keep their interactions as normal as possible, so she had teased him about this and that when they passed in corridors. She had squashed down the seething she felt inside. And now, face-to-face, it was back full force. How dare this balding man think he would be enough for Eve?  
  
“I was waiting for you to leap down and scare me like you usually do.” He explained with a chuckle.

“Not today,” she replied, her voice saccharine.   
  
“Must be my lucky day.” He said jovially.   
  
“Not mine.” Oksana mumbled, and Pargrave looked at her questioningly but she said no more and instead climbed down the ladder of her bunk and stood next to him.

“Ready for your appointment?” He asked.  
  
“Always,” she smiled. “After you.” She said politely, allowing him to walk out of the room before her. Where would she do it? In the back? The chest? Maybe the neck, that could be fun. She had seen one of her father’s men stabbed in the neck once. There had been a lot of blood.

“You’re in a good mood.” Pargrave said conversationally, “And Dalton said he saw you talking to Renate the other day. I’m glad you’ve sorted things out.”   
  
Oksana smiled serenely at him and nodded.

“It’s better to be friends than enemies.” She said knowingly, “My father always said that.”   
  
“That’s… actually very true.” Pargrave replied with a note of surprise. He looked to Oksana as they walked side by side now along the hallways towards the appointment room.  
  
“He is a wise man.” Oksana agreed, “And he is right, it is always better to be his friend. His enemies never last long.” She added with a laugh as though she had told an innocent joke.  
  
“Ah.” Pargrave let out. “Yes, I see what he meant by that then.” That was far more in line with what he knew of Oksana’s family background. Oksana’s father was more of a fighter than a lover from everything he had heard of the man.  
  
“Still true though.” Oksana shrugged.  
  
“Well, I’m glad you sorted things out with Renate anyway.” Pargrave replied, steering the conversation away from Oksana’s father’s words of wisdom.  
  
“We came to a mutually beneficial agreement.” Oksana explained with a smirk and a singular raised eyebrow.

Pargrave sighed. He knew what Oksana’s end of that arrangement would have been and guiltily he hoped she didn’t spell it out for him. If he didn’t know about it, then he didn’t have to deal with it. And there was no point dealing with it. Nothing stopped Oksana anyway. Her habit of seducing other inmates was at least a victimless crime.

“And what did you get out of it?” He asked wearily and half dreading the answer.

“Something good.” Oksana smiled excitedly. “You’ll see.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's a little shorter than usual. I thought you would rather have something than nothing, so here it is.

It hadn’t been all that difficult to keep up a normal conversation with Pargrave en route to the appointment with Eve. Oksana was reminded that she had really liked the man, he seemed good-natured and he didn’t keep a wary eye on Oksana like the other staff members in the prison. They had a rapport. It would be a shame to jam whatever kind of blade Renate supplied into him, but Oksana would serve justice for his advances on Eve.  
  
“Here we are,” Pargrave let out, reaching a hand to the door in front of them.

Instinctively, Oksana’s own hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist. Pargrave looked at her in surprise and tried to pull his hand away from her but she held on.

“You don’t have take me into the actual room, you know, I am not some little kid you are dropping off at preschool.” Oksana sneered.  
  
Pargrave looked yet more surprised. Oksana had been uncharacteristically calm and pleasant so far during their time together, he supposed he shouldn’t have allowed himself to get too used to that. Volatility was a trait of the young woman before him.

“No,” he said slowly, “But Dr Polastri is a friend and I would like to say hello.” He explained calmly.

“No.” Oksana said, her mind made up.

“Astankova, I don’t see why—” He began.  
  
“If I get out of here, will you be delivering me to meetings with my parole officer?” Oksana interrupted. She wouldn’t be getting out of here, she knew that, but she wanted to keep Pargrave away from Eve without letting him know that she knew what he did.   
  
“Well, no.” Pargrave admitted.  
  
“Then let me practice, hmm?” Oksana suggested and then before Pargrave had a chance to reply, “I can probably even manage to find my way back to my cell later too, you do not need to meet me at the school gates and chat to all the other doting mothers.” She said mockingly looking around at the empty corridor.

“Ha ha.” Pargrave let out sarcastically, “Unfortunately the prison doesn’t allow “little kids” to wander this wing unaccompanied, but I will meet you out here in the corridor when you are done. OK?”  
  
“Yes, Mother.” Oksana joked.  
  
“Fine. Say hello to Dr Polastri for me.” Pargrave relented.   
  
He didn’t know what Oksana’s issue with him entering the room was, he dreaded to think really, but he had learnt to pick his battles when it came to this particular inmate. She might be tricky sometimes, but she still somehow managed to be one of his favourites. Not that he would admit that to her. Or to Eve for that matter, it seemed she needed no encouraging when it came to Oksana Astankova.   
  
“I will,” Oksana promised serenely, knowing that she absolutely wouldn’t.  
  
Pargrave stepped away from the door and Oksana finally let go of his wrist, which he rubbed absent-mindedly. Her grip had perhaps been a little strong.

“Be good.” He said pointedly.

“You too.” She replied, holding his gaze somewhat threateningly and confusing him yet again.  
  
Oksana slipped into the room, not opening the door far enough for Pargrave to look in beyond her and kept her eyes on him the whole time until she closed the door behind her and turned around. Her eyes alighted on Eve at once and she felt her chest flutter like that of the kind of lovesick idiot that she would laugh in the face of. And then she remembered again what Nadia had told her and she felt that flutter turn anxious.  
  
From inside the room, Eve had watched Oksana back through the doorway.  
  
“Um, hello?” Eve said uncertainly from her usual chair, once Oksana had completed her unusual entrance and now stood staring at her and saying nothing.

Oksana looked Eve over as though checking for some kind of distress and then gave an almost relieved smile.

“Hello Eve,” she said warmly, and then, “Are you OK?” she added in concern.  
  
Eve’s look of bafflement deepened at that genuine question.

“I’m fine, thank-you Astankova. Are _you_ OK?” she asked, perplexed.

Oksana strode over to her chair and settled herself into it comfortably.

“I am good. Very good. And you can call me Oksana now, hmm?” Oksana said, and it sounded like a request, rather than a suggested. “It is nice to see you.” Oksana added before Eve could respond.   
  
Eve watched as Oksana relaxed into her seat, there was still a look of… something cautious in her eye, but Oksana did seem pleased to see her. That was such a rarity in Eve’s work. Nobody enjoyed enforced visits to a prison-issue psychologist tasked with determining their mental state and possible threat to society. Oksana was a refreshing change.

“It’s nice to see you too.” Eve replied after collecting her thoughts. It was true after all.   
  
Oksana’s smile grew.  
  
“Did you go for a run this morning?” Oksana asked interestedly and Eve caught her eyes flicking to Eve’s legs.  
  
 _You have good legs._ The memory of Oksana informing her of that trickled back into Eve’s mind.

“I wish.” Eve lamented before she had time to consider her answer. And that was true too. She would far rather have been running than dealing with, or failing to deal with, a bawling child that morning. She couldn’t comfort her own son; that was a fact she should probably examine.  
  
“Why didn’t you?” Oksana asked with a frown.   
  
Eve paused. How could she answer that? She shouldn’t tell Oksana about Leo. She shouldn’t talk about herself at all. This room could be, in some twisted way, a sanctuary from that side of Eve’s life. A safe haven with a murderer, Eve thought wryly.  
  
“Oh, sometimes life just gets in the way, you know?” Eve said after a moment, deeming that the safest and vaguest response.

“I do not know.” Oksana replied, gesturing the walls around her and her prison uniform. “Must be nice.” She added, and Eve couldn’t tell whether she had struck a nerve, or Oksana’s dry humour was at play.

“Sorry.” Eve said softly.   
  
“No.” Oksana replied immediately. “Don’t be. I would like to hear about your life, Eve.”  
  
That was a rarity too. These days, when Niko asked about the bits of her life he wasn’t involved with, it always seemed as though he was fulfilling some kind of contractual obligation as The Husband, rather than being genuinely interested and actually listening to the response. And recently his questions felt more like interrogations. It was gratifying to be asked by someone who actually wanted to hear and Eve was surprised to discover that she was glad she had told Oksana her name. She also found that actually she _did_ want to tell Oksana. She wanted to explain what had happened that morning. But she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. 

“How was the talk this morning?” Eve asked instead, referring to the reason their appointment time had been altered. “It was about drugs, right?”  
  
Oksana looked disappointed for a moment that Eve had changed the subject, and then rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.

“It was boring. And pointless. I do not like drugs. I didn’t even ever smoke.” Oksana told her, eyes wide.

“I didn’t think you were the type.” Eve nodded, and Oksana looked pleased.

“Drugs fuck up your body. I have a beautiful body, why would I want to fuck it up? And smoking makes you look old.” She said elongating the final word.

Eve laughed. There was Oksana’s ego again. But Jesus, Eve’s mind had agreed with Oksana’s statement the minute she said it. She is undeniably beautiful. Anyone can see that.

At hearing Eve’s laugh, Oksana preened even more.

“My father smokes cigars.” She divulged, “Big, fat, cigars. He got them imported especially. I used to hate the smell of them and when I was small I would hide the boxes from him. He would always find them though.”   
  
Eve watched as Oksana spoke, watched her mind leave the prison walls for a moment as though she could transport herself back to her childhood, back to Russia, back to when her biggest concern was sneaking away her father’s smelly cigars.  
  
“Now, sometimes when I sleep I can smell them, you know? I can smell his cigars as though he were standing in my cell.” Oksana mused with a faint smile, “I don’t hate that smell anymore.” She finished decisively.   
  
“Would you try to go back to him?” Eve asked quickly, before she had decided to. She had remembered Bill’s words from the other day, about the danger of Oksana returning to her father and his underworld if she were to be released.

Oksana’s eyes fixed on Eve’s. They had a way of making Eve feel bare, as though Oksana could see right into her. It was unsettling. And perhaps, if she allowed herself to admit it, a little exciting.

“If you got parole.” Eve added unnecessarily, just for something to fill the silence. 

“I don’t know what I would do.” Oksana said quietly. “He is in prison also. Everything back home is… scattered. I think. And here, my mother…” She let out a sudden loud laugh. “Well, the bitch probably does not want me back.” She said with an amused smile.   
  
“Do you speak to her?” Eve questioned softly, “Has she ever contacted you?”  
  
Oksana raised a sceptical eyebrow at Eve.

“I cut off her husband’s dick.” She said plainly.

“I know.” Eve rushed out. Her question hadn’t seemed silly when she asked it, now Oksana made it sound absurd. “But she might have—”  
  
“What if I cut off your husband’s dick?” Oksana interrupted, “Would you still love me?”  
  
Eve’s mouth dropped open.   
  
“I don’t—” she started.  
  
“I meant, if you look at it from her point of view.” Oksana said hurriedly, and Eve could be mistaken, but there seemed to be a flash of embarrassment, a hint of pink risen in Oksana’s cheeks.  
  
“Well,” Eve started, “I don’t know the circumstances. You could have been defending her.”

Oksana laughed emptily.

“I was not.” She stated.   
  
Oksana looked away, her eyes fixed on the beige wall to the left of her, though she looked through it rather than at it. She lifted a hand to her mouth, biting at the skin next to her thumb. Eve couldn’t help but wish she were close enough to gently pull that hand away.   
  
“Why did you do it?” Eve almost whispered.   
  
Oksana’s eyes travelled slowly back to Eve, and she sighed in resignation.

“He disrespected my father.” She said, and there was a distinct lack of emotion in her voice.

“That’s it?” Eve gasped before she could stop herself.

It was like holding a lit match to a gas supply and Eve instantly regretted her words.

“That’s not enough?” Oksana seethed, her body going rigid. “Nobody disrespects my father! That snivelling piece of shit should thank God I only cut his useless prick off. I have seen people suffer far worse fates for lesser crimes than stealing my father’s wife.” She ranted. “She was a shitty wife too, and a shittier mother.”  
  
“But your mother walked out on your father. It was her choice to leave. Why only punish your step-father?” Eve probed. None of it made sense.  
  
“You do not thinking finding your lover dead on the floor is a punishment?” Oksana suggested. “She loved him.”   
  
“You did it because she loved him?”   
  
“Eve, you are not listening! I did it because he disrespected my father.”  
  
“But your mother disrespected him too, surely?” Eve asked. 

Oksana looked momentarily unsure of how to answer that, but her hesitation quickly became frustration.  
  
“She was already a waste of space. She has to live with the image of it, I guess. I don’t know, Eve.” Oksana sighed, clearly becoming irritated with Eve’s line of questioning.   
  
Eve thought for a moment, unsure of whether to ask her next question or not.

“Why did you put it in a pan? His… penis.” She asked at last, trying to keep her tone conversational and as non-confrontational as possible.

Oksana burst into laughter. She appeared positively joyful.

“That was my idea.” She said through a wide smile. “He always liked her to cook for him. He told her she was such a ‘good little wife’. And she liked it! Can you imagine? It was disgusting.”  
  
Eve used a mammoth amount of strength to keep her expression neutral.  
  
“You didn’t approve of that?” Eve mused.

“She is still my father’s wife.” Oksana replied blankly. “So no, I do not think she is a good wife. They were playing make-believe. Like how they thought it would complete their dumb family when they took me.”  
  
“Took you?” Eve checked.  
  
“Mmm.” Oksana hummed, “When my father went to prison. I had to go somewhere. I was only 13. I wanted to stay with Konstantin.”  
  
“Konstantin?” Eve asked  
  
“My father’s best friend.” Oksana nodded, and then something flickered across her face, “My uncle.”  
  
“He wouldn’t have you?” Eve suggested, and then regretted it as Oksana’s eyes glinted fiercely.  
  
“He would!” Oksana shot back at once. “But she wanted me. Thought she could change me. Thought she was ‘rescuing me’.” Oksana laughed.   
  
“She thought you needed rescuing?” Eve clarified.

“I told you, she is a stupid bitch!” Oksana exclaimed.  
  
“Right.” Eve nodded. “Sorry.”  
  
A silence fell between them as Eve contemplated how best to move forward.  
  
“This is boring.” Oksana groaned.

“We kind of need to talk about it.” Eve explained.  
  
“That is enough for now.” Oksana said decisively.   
  
Eve recoiled a little at Oksana taking such control over their conversation. That really should be Eve’s job. But Eve was pleasantly surprised that she had managed to get so much information out of Oksana already. It would do for now. Dealing with Oksana, Eve had learnt, was a little like wrangling a wild animal. You had to read the smallest signals, learn when to coax and when to push, and when to climb the nearest tree for safety. Currently, they weren’t at the tree-climbing stage, but Oksana had said she’d had enough. Eve could keep pressing her for information, but she might lose a limb, better to back away and offer a reward.  
  
“Tell me about your husband.” Oksana demanded, breaking into Eve’s thoughts. “Is he good to you? He should be good to you.”   
  
“He… is a kind man.” Eve said slowly.

“Kind to you?” Oksana pressed.   
  
Eve opened her mouth to reply.

“I would be kind to you.” Oksana said before Eve had a chance to speak.  
  
Eve closed her mouth. There was no come back to that. It was a statement that had both thrown her off kilter and started a warm fizzing sensation in her stomach. Eve cleared her throat.   
  
“Let’s play your game.” Eve said, a small tremor barely noticeable in her voice. And yet Oksana noticed it.  
  
A look of pleasant anticipation washed over Oksana as she gave a wide grin.


	19. Chapter 19

It was, as ever, entirely plausible that Eve was going to regret suggesting that they play Oksana’s game. And yet, she had suggested exactly that. At least, she supposed it wasn’t one of the suggestions she had made to Oksana without even realising what she was about to say. She had thought about this in advance, she knew she was going to have to give a little in order to get anything at all in return when it came to Oksana. So Eve was giving her a chance to play her game.  
  
“Do you remember it?” Eve asked, adjusting herself in her seat and reaching for her notebook. “We both get three guesses, and for each one you get correct—”  
  
“You get another guess, I remember.” Oksana finished eagerly. “I am going first.”  
  
If she were any more excited, she would be clapping her hands in glee.  
  
“No.” Eve said firmly, “I’m going first.” It was petty, but she had to assert some sort of control over the situation. After all, that control was bound to be out the window in less than five minutes time.  
  
“OK.” Oksana agreed, surprisingly amiably, “You can go first.”  
  
“Thank-you.” Eve said politely.   
  
She had written some potential guesses in her notebook a few days earlier when she had been considering letting Oksana play her game and she was going to start small. Start with something she knew wasn’t a big risk. Something she was almost certain was correct.   
  
“You’ve never had pets.” Eve said simply.   
  
Oksana looked affronted.   
  
“Eve. That is a very boring guess. This game is supposed to be fun.” She said, unimpressed.  
  
“It’s a correct guess though, isn’t it?” Eve replied nonchalantly.   
  
“My father had dogs.” Oksana said moodily. In all honesty, her father’s dogs were certainly not pets. They were deterrents, and pretty ferocious ones at that.    
  
“But you, personally, have never had, nor desired to have, a pet.” Eve countered with the kind of cool confidence that was bound to irk Oksana.   
  
“Fine.” Oksana conceded. “You are right. But it is still a boring guess.” She chastised lightly.  
  
“Still got me an extra guess.” Eve shrugged, eyeing Oksana and waiting for her to hurl an insult her way for that arrogant statement. No insult came.  
  
“My turn.” Oksana said instead, with a smile. “You have had sex with less than five people.” she said smugly.   
  
“Incorrect.” Eve replied instantly.   
  
“It is not!” Oksana exclaimed. “You are lying! How many then?”  
  
“You only get guesses, not follow-up questions.” Eve said firmly. “My turn again.”

Eve referred back to her notebook.

“You are very prepared, Eve. Have you been thinking about me a lot?” Oksana smirked.

Eve closed her notebook with a snap, the edge of the page sliding along her finger as she did so and slicing into the pad of it.   
  
“Oh sugar snaps!” Eve hissed, as she pulled her already bleeding finger into her mouth. Why were paper cuts so vicious?  
  
“What?” Oksana burst out in amazement. “Did you say ‘sugar snaps’? What are you, seven?” she asked through her stunned laughter.   
  
“No,” said Eve defensively, releasing her finger from her mouth and assessing the cut, “We don’t all swear the minute we open our mouths.”   
  
Or rather, when you have children, you learn to quash that immediate instinct to swear, and Eve had done exactly that before realising that present company would not be the slightest bit offended by an expletive.  
  
“But who says that?” Oksana howled, still laughing.  
  
Eve waited for the laughter to abate while she inspected her finger. It was a clean, thread of a slit, almost unnoticeable until she squeezed it and watched a drop of blood form from within it.  
  
“Eve,” Oksana chuckled, “You are so weird.”   
  
Her tone was affectionate and Eve felt her stomach react pleasantly to that too. God, this was getting out of hand.   
  
“Is your finger alright?” Oksana then asked abruptly.  
  
“It’s fine.” Eve said, shaking her head and pulling a pack of tissues from her handbag.   
  
She swiped the blood from her finger onto a tissue and then balled it up and crossed the room to the bin by the door. She was striding back to her seat when Oksana reached out suddenly, like a domestic cat swiping at a toy mouse, and grabbed hold of her hand.

“Let me see.” She demanded, holding Eve’s hand and pulling it towards herself before examining Eve’s forefinger closely.   
  
“It’s just a paper cut.” Eve said. Her voice came out hoarse and she wasn’t sure why.   
  
Oksana smoothed her fingers over Eve’s own, back and forth, and then looked up into Eve’s face.   
  
“I think it’s fine.” She said, just above a whisper.   
  
Eve found herself trapped, her gaze meeting Oksana’s and being held captive. There was such life in those eyes, such intelligence, and Eve couldn’t look away. Oksana smiled and released Eve’s hand.  
  
“So is it sugar snaps like the peas or…” Oksana trailed off, her smile becoming more of a smirk.  
  
Eve shook her head to pull herself out of her accidental trance and returned to her seat, ignoring Oksana’s question.  
  
“That fight you got into when you were first in prison, when you broke a woman’s nose, it was because she said something about your father.” Eve said in a rush, as she settled into her seat.   
  
She crossed her legs neatly, and forced her back straight and her shoulders down, hoping to bring back a sense of propriety to their meeting. Or at the very least hoping to hide the effect that Oksana’s touch had had on her.  
  
“Ooh,” Oksana let out, “You have been reading my record too?” she sounded most pleased with herself.   
  
Eve simply kept her gaze expectantly on Oksana, waiting for her to answer. Oksana’s smile grew and Eve’s heart sank.

“Wrong.” She said breezily.   
  
“Why then? What caused it?” Eve asked, unable to help herself. She was sure that could be the only thing that would set Oksana ablaze in such a way.  
  
“Ah-ah.” Oksana, shaking her head at Eve whilst still smiling, “Only guesses, no follow up questions.”   
  
Eve pursed her lips.   
  
“My turn.” Oksana said excitedly.  
  
“Go on then,” Eve let out, “You have two guesses left.”  
  
“I am your favourite client.” Oksana said proudly.  
  
Eve hadn’t been expecting that. But perhaps maybe she should have been. Oksana did hold herself in high regard.  
  
“I don’t have a favourite client.” Eve replied tensely.

“You can say.” Oksana tempted, and then added in a whisper, “I won’t tell anyone.”  
  
Eve laughed, she couldn’t help herself. The idea that Oksana might divulge the fact that she was Eve’s favourite client and cause some kind of stir was amusing. Who would she tell? Bill? He knew as well as Eve did that Oksana likes to think she’s everyone’s favourite.

“See?” Oksana exclaimed, “I make you laugh. Do your other clients make you laugh? 

“Not often.” Eve relented, and in fact she couldn’t remember a single time that another client had made her laugh recently.

“So I am your favourite.” Oksana decided.   
  
“I didn’t say that.” Eve rebuked firmly.   
  
Oksana stared at her, and Eve stared back for as long as she could manage before finding that she had to look away.   
  
“An extra guess to me,” Oksana said cheerily.  
  
Eve let out a breathy laugh, and raised a single hand in defeat. She didn’t have to actually confirm Oksana’s guess. She could just concede the point and move on.  
  
“My turn then.” Eve said brusquely.   
  
“Ha!” Oksana barked, “I knew it! I am your favourite.” She leaned back in her seat victoriously. She motioned for Eve to make her next guess, but then thought better of it and spoke again before Eve could formulate her next guess.  
  
“You’re my favourite too.” Oksana offered graciously.

“I’m your favourite psychologist?” Eve asked with a laugh, “Great. Good for me. I am your favourite out of one.”  
  
“No,” Oksana said immediately with a frown, “Just… my favourite.”   
  
“Oh.” Eve heard herself say. That was interesting. And confusing. “What about Mr Pargrave?”  
  
A storm cloud gathered over Oksana’s features 

“ _He_ is not my favourite.” She sneered.

“I thought you liked him,” Eve said, confused. “Or at least, I thought you didn’t _dislike_ him.”

“What do _you_ think of him?” Oksana asked, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“He’s a friend.” Eve replied cautiously, something had rubbed Oksana the wrong way, and now she felt the need to tread carefully.

Oksana looked somewhere between mildly disgusted and outright furious.   
  
“What’s that look for?” Eve asked. “I told you before that Pargrave and I have never… been together.”  
  


“Good!” Oksana snapped. “He wants to though.” She added, “It’s disgusting. He’s disgusting.”

Eve now had no idea what was going on, how their conversation had taken such a turn, or what had happened to provoke such disdain from Oksana. Clearly the subject of Eve and Bill’s friendship was something Oksana couldn’t get to grips with.   
  
“I’m married.” Eve pointed out.

“I know.” Oksana groaned, letting her head drop backwards animatedly.   
  
Eve considered Oksana whilst she wasn’t looking and decided on her next guess. It wasn’t from her notebook, but she had a strong inkling that it was correct.  
  
“You don’t have friends.” Eve said evenly.

“Ouch, Eve!” Oksana let out in mock hurt, lifting her head from the back of the chair and staring wide-eyed at Eve, “There is no need to be mean.”

“No, that’s my guess.” Eve clarified, “You don’t tend to have close friends.”  
  
Oksana pondered that for what felt like too long of a time as far as Eve was concerned. If it took that long to think about then clearly the answer was no. Or perhaps Oksana was having trouble defining friendship.   
  
“Friends are people you don’t have sex with.” Eve pointed out dryly.   
  
“Hmm…” Oksana hummed, dragging out the sound and looking thoughtful for another moment, “Then no. You are correct.”  
  
Eve nodded. That made sense. Well, it made sense in terms of what she knew about Oksana. It didn’t make sense in the general human behaviour kind of way.  
  
“You would never have an affair?” Oksana said, her tone rich with interest. 

“I…” Eve started and then furrowed her brows. “Is that a guess?”

“Obviously. That is the game.” Oksana replied as though Eve’s query had been a stupid one.

“But you asked it as a question.” Eve countered 

“I did not.”

“You did. Your voice went up at the end.” Eve argued.

“Whatever.” Oksana let out, irritated. “Why does it matter?”  
  
“Well… If it’s a question, I don’t have to answer it.” Eve explained.

“Then it is a guess.” Oksana decided. “So you do.”

“I would never have an affair,” Eve repeated, “That’s your guess?”

“Ugh!” Oksana huffed, “Yes. That is the guess.”  
  
Eve considered the statement carefully. She had never cheated on Niko. She had cheated on partners in the past. Well, one. But she hadn’t cheated on Niko. That didn’t mean she never would though, she supposed. She couldn’t tell the future, after all.

“Incorrect.” Eve said slowly.

Oksana’s face brightened and she twitched in her seat as though her whole body was taken aback by that response. And then she appeared to collect herself and eyed Eve dubiously.

“Are you just trying to stop me getting an extra guess?” She asked warily.  
  
“No!” Eve replied. “It’s just that I can’t say for certain that your guess is correct because that would require me making a prediction, which I can’t do.” Eve explained.

“So you would cheat on your husband?” Oksana summarised.

“I can’t imagine doing that.” Eve said, “But it is within the realms of possibility. It has to be. Just like he could cheat on me.”

“He would have to be a fucking idiot.” Oksana said at once.  
  
Eve laughed.   
  
“Sometimes I think he would be within his rights.” Eve murmured. And why? Why did she say that? Was possessed her? Had she forgotten where she was currently?

Oksana looked confused.

“Why?” she demanded.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Eve muttered, and she wasn’t sure if she was telling herself or Oksana.

“But you did.” Oksana insisted. “Why would he want to cheat on you?”  
  
Eve sighed. Was she really doing this?

“Marriages aren’t easy, you know?” She said softly. “People change throughout their lives. What works at the start doesn’t necessarily work forever. Circumstances change…”   
  
“So break up.” Oksana shrugged. “But he would still be an idiot to cheat on you.”

“It’s not as easy as…” Eve started, Oksana didn’t know there was a child involved, didn’t know that most of their marital disputes were Eve’s fault. “He’s not an idiot. He just wants more than I can give sometimes.” She reasoned.

“He makes you do things you don’t want to do?” Oksana growled.

“No,” Eve laughed, “Jesus, nothing like that. More that he wants to spend time with me, wants me to be there more for him and—” Eve stopped herself just in time. “I work a lot.” She finished safely.

“He doesn’t work?” Oksana asked.

“He does.” Eve replied, “he just has different…. priorities.”   
  
Was Eve actually admitting, in a round about way, that she cared more about her work than her son? Was she admitting that to a client, of all people? She had officially lost her mind.  
  
“Like what?” Oksana asked.

Now _that_ Eve couldn’t answer without bringing Leo into this conversation. And the conversation was crossing enough lines as it was.

“He’s a painter.” She said instead.

Oksana stuck her chin out and gestured for Eve to continue as if that statement was so uninteresting that it must be leading somewhere else.

“He… uh… He’s good. He does mostly commissions now, and…” Eve was rambling. She had begun to spill her guts in the most inappropriate way and now she was stuck. Oksana had a knack for teasing information out of Eve. It was a knack that Eve only wished she herself possessed. She glanced at the clock on the wall; surely Bill would be along soon to save her from the mess she had made for herself.

Their session should have ended 20 minutes ago, according to the clock.

“Where’s Bill?” Eve shrieked. “It’s twenty past!” She stood abruptly and flapped her hands uselessly for a moment.

“Is it?” Oksana said calmly. “That didn’t feel like a whole hour.”

“It was more than an hour!” Eve exclaimed. “Shit! I am going to be so late.”

“Oh, it’s shit now? Not sugar snaps?” Oksana said with a grin.  
  
“Where the fuck is Bill?” Eve asked, glancing at her watch as though it might give her a more favourable answer than the clock.

“Outside probably.” Oksana shrugged. “I told him not to come in this time.”

“What?” Eve gasped, “Why?”

“For you.” Oksana said simply.   
  
“What are you talking about?” Eve asked, “Actually no, whatever it is, forget it. I have to go.”  
  
Eve grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and started shrugging it on. Halfway through the task, with one arm twisted around her back, she realised her sleeve was now inside out and tangled. Oksana chuckled softly and stood from her chair. She crossed over to Eve in one stride and took hold of her upper arms gently.

“Here.” She said, turning Eve on the spot and untangling her sleeve for her.   
  
Oksana helped Eve pull her jacket on and then just as Eve was about to step away, she gathered Eve’s hair with one hand and pulled it out from inside her jacket. Oksana fluffed Eve’s hair once and let it fall over her shoulders; Eve could swear she heard Oksana take a deep breath in as she did so. Eve stood frozen in place until Oksana was in front of her once more and Eve cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Thanks.” She croaked.  
  
“You’re welcome.” Oksana smiled.   
  
Eve remained still for a moment, suddenly oddly on edge at having Oksana so close to her.

“Aren’t you running late for something?” Oksana asked finally.

“Shit!” Eve exclaimed again. She grabbed her bag from the floor, slung it over her shoulder and headed for the doorway.

“See you next week Eve!” Oksana called happily.

Eve couldn’t bring herself to turn around, to look at Oksana again, so she raised a hand over her shoulder in a backwards wave and pulled the door open, throwing herself out into the corridor.

“Ah, there you are! I was just about to knock—” Bill let out, pushing himself off of the wall where he had been leaning, waiting for Oksana.

“Can’t stop!” Eve yelled, “Sorry Bill, running late.”

“No shit.” Bill muttered, shaking his head with a smile.   
  
He took a deep breath and readied himself for another interaction with Oksana who was now strolling serenely out of the doorway.   
  
  
  
It took Eve over an hour to get home. She watched the digital clock on her dashboard tick further and further away from the time she had promised Niko she would be home by. She had promised to have Leo bathed and ready for bed early tonight, before the Austins arrived for dinner. There was no time for that now. She had promised to be there to greet them when they arrived and chat to them while Niko finished the supper preparations. That time had slid by too.   
  
By the time she reached home and all but screeched into a parking slot, leaving the car with one tyre on the pavement and the rest of the road, Eve’s heart was pounding painfully. It was too late and she knew it.

She turned the key in the lock and let herself into the house. Her ears were met with the sounds of clinking glasses, murmured laughter and Leo’s high-pitched voice that was reserved for when he was at his most over-tired and over-excited. Eve braced herself and strode into the kitchen.

“You’re late!” Leo shrieked with a manic smile.

“Leo,” Niko said warningly.

Eve threw on an apologetic smile.

“I am so sorry,” She gushed, “Traffic on the M25 was an absolute nightmare.”

She held out her hand to Mr Austin to shake.  
  
“Oh, that road is a pig. Always accidents on it at this time of day.” He said knowingly, shaking her hand.  
  
“Exactly.” Eve nodded, “Huge accident.” She lied.

 She turned to Mrs Austin and smiled, leaning in for a quick hug.  
  
“You must be dying for a glass of wine,” Mrs Austin said sympathetically.   
  
“You have no idea,” Eve joked. She tried to catch Niko’s eye but he was studiously avoiding her glances. “But uh… Let me just get Leo sorted upstairs first.” She added.  
  
“No!” Leo whined.   
  
“’fraid so.” Eve nodded.  
  
“But I want to stay up.” He said, stomping his foot petulantly.   
  
“Come on Lionman, we had a deal.” Niko said warmly. “You could stay down until Mum got home.”  
  
“And I’m here now,” Eve added, “So come on, I’ll uh… Read you a story?” Eve suggested, casting a questioning look at Niko and finally getting some eye contact.

“A quick one.” he nodded. “Dinner is pretty much ready.”  
  
“OK.” Leo sighed and began traipsing towards the door. “Night Mr and Mrs Austin.” He said politely and then headed into the hall and up the stairs.  
  
“Won’t be long,” Eve murmured, smiling at both of the guests, and then at Niko. He held her gaze but didn’t return her smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I've seen it. Yes, I'm disappointed. Let's all bury ourselves in alternative endings.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, been a while. How's it going?
> 
> A few notes before we begin. For those who have been patient and kind: thank-you for your words and your waiting. It means a lot. I'm sorry it's been such a long time. I have no excuses beyond the fact that this is not my job. I have a job and a life and a family and responsibilities and writing fanfic comes pretty near the bottom of the list. That's not to say I don't care. I do. I said I would finish this and I still intend to. 
> 
> For those who sent me pushy and demanding messages: those aren't helpful. They actually make the wait longer because they're rude and presumptive and make me think, 'Why am I bothering?'
> 
> Anyway, here's a chapter for you. We're spending some time with Eve here. Oksana will be back next time, but first we need to see Eve losing her goddamn mind a bit more. 
> 
> A recap so you don't have to read the last chapter again: Niko had important clients coming for dinner. Eve promised to be home early to help. She got caught up with an appointment with Oksana because who the fuck wouldn't, and was super late home.... 
> 
> Onwards! And I hope you enjoy it.

It wasn’t until shortly after eleven that night that Eve found herself hovering on the doorstep with Niko as they waved the Austins off down the garden path and to the waiting taxi. Eve’s cheeks were almost sore with all the overly enthusiastic smiling she had done over the past few hours. Her body felt tired and her mind was tense with worry about whatever awkward conversation was about to occur with Niko the minute the front door had closed. The minute they were sequestered away in their own home and no longer putting on the show of a happy couple, the façade was bound to crumble.  
  
“Goodnight all!” Niko called, his hand raised towards the idling taxi, its lights shining foggy beams through the damp night air. The same night air had hit Eve with a jolt when the door had been opened and made her realise that she might have consumed more wine than she normally would have over dinner.  
  
He stepped back from the door, his shoulder nudging Eve’s and forcing her to take a step too as he pulled the door closed. The broad smile he had been sporting slunk from his face as the two of them were left standing in the deathly quiet hallway.  
  
Eve was holding her breath, girding herself for the release of Niko’s carefully restrained frustration. She had broken her promise, after all. She had been more than a little late to a function that had been important to him. She had known it was important too. Had known this was a dinner with the couple who were paying a lot of money for a commissioned piece of Niko’s artwork. It was a big deal for Niko. Eve knew that.

But nothing came. Niko didn’t say a word. He sighed instead, and headed back towards the kitchen.  
  
Eve realised she was biting the inside of her lip. She did feel guilty. She had lost track of time with Oksana. It wasn’t entirely her own fault, but she should have been paying attention. She followed Niko down the hallway to where he was already stacking dirtied plates into the dishwasher.  
  
“Niko,” Eve said softly.  
  
There was no response, just the continued clatter of crockery.  
  
“I’m sorry I was late.” She tried carefully.  
  
“There was an accident on the M25. You explained.” Niko replied tightly, not pausing in his task to look at Eve.

She had said that. It seemed fairer to lie, fairer to make it seem as though she had tried to be true to her word. Niko would be hurt to know that Eve had simply forgotten, had been too wrapped up in her own work, her own world, to remember his.  
  
“Right. You know what that road is like.” Eve agreed. “Let me do that,” she stepped forward and tried to take over the task of loading the dishwasher.  
  
Niko stood up and faced her.  
  
“Except,” he started, “There was no crash on the M25 this afternoon.”  
  
Eve felt ice slip through her veins. Niko’s eyes were fixed on her now and she could imagine her own guilt-strewn expression. She huffed out a laugh.  
  
“No? Well, traffic was awful. It certainly felt like there must have been a crash somewhere.” She said.  
  
“Traffic was remarkably good this afternoon.” Niko said calmly, “I have live travel updates on my phone.” He added.  
  
Eve’s eyebrows twitched together in confusion.  
  
“You work from home.” She pointed out in bewilderment.  
  
“It’s not for me!” Niko snapped, slamming a plate down on the counter, almost harshly enough to crack it. His volume rose so abruptly that Eve jumped. “It’s so I might know where my wife is, and yet I still don’t.” He said bitterly.

“I was at work.” Eve said simply.  
  
Niko scoffed.  
  
“Did you see Bill?” He asked pointedly.  
  
Eve was taken aback. How had this got anything to do with Bill?  
  
“Actually, no.” Eve said slowly. It was the truth. Oksana, for whatever absurd reason, had told Bill to stay in the corridor today, not to enter the consultation room. Eve hadn’t seen Bill at all.  
  
“No?” Niko asked, disbelief evident in his tone.  
  
“No.” Eve replied firmly, beginning to feel the edges of annoyance closing in. Why was Niko second-guessing her like this?  
  
“I texted him. He said you were there this afternoon.” Niko stated, crossing the kitchen to the table and beginning to collect empty glasses stained with rust rings of red wine.  
  
“You texted him.” Eve repeated blankly, and then followed it up angrily with, “I was there! I was there but I didn’t see Bill.”  
  
Eve strode over to the table and put a hand on Niko’s arm before he could pick up another wine glass.  
  
“Why would you text Bill?” She demanded. “How do you even have his number?”  
  
Niko tugged his arm from Eve’s grip and span to look at her.  
  
“Because I have no idea what’s going on with you!” He shot back at her, his volume loud enough to risk waking their sleeping son. He lowered his voice, “You’re always late, you’re evasive, you… Are you seeing someone else?” He finished defeated.  
  
Eve felt as though she had been tasered. She took a wobbly step backwards.  
  
“Am I seeing— Are you kidding?” She hissed, “You’re kidding. This is a joke, right?”  
  
“I’m not laughing, Eve.” Niko said seriously.  
  
Eve had no response. Her eyes were wide, flitting around Niko’s ashen face.  
  
“When would I even have time to be seeing someone else?” Eve exclaimed, “I work full time, I have Leo, I have you—”  
  
Niko interrupted with a harsh laugh.

“You spend more time working than with me or our son.” He said dejectedly.

“Exactly!” Eve agreed before realising that probably wasn’t the best statement to so readily concur with. “So when would I be having this supposed affair?”  
  
Niko simply maintained eye contact with Eve for a few beats until he saw her face dissolve from angered disbelief to realisation?  
  
“Bill?” Eve shrieked.  
  
Niko looked away.

“You think I’m seeing Bill?” She demanded shrilly.

“You tell me.” Niko grumbled.

Eve shook her head and then laughed, an exhausted and bewildered laugh. “Why does everyone seem to think Bill and I are some kind of thing?” She muttered to herself. 

“What?” Niko barked. “Everyone?”  
  
“I’m not seeing Bill. He is a friend and nothing more.” Eve said tiredly.

“Who else asked?” Niko urged.  
  
“I’m not doing this Niko, you’re being insane. I’m sorry I was late, that’s all.” Eve replied. She turned to the counter and snagged the half empty bottle of red from it before grabbing a glass from the table, not caring whether it was hers or not.  
  
“We need to talk about this.” Niko insisted. “I feel like I’m in this by myself.” He finished quietly.  
  
“You’re not.” Eve issued without much conviction and then paused, “How did you say you got Bill’s number?” She asked suspiciously.

Niko, for the first time that evening, looked a little sheepish.  
  
“From your phone.” He admitted.

The anger that Eve thought had been extinguished by the overwhelming tiredness was reignited with a vengeance.

“Excuse me?” She seethed quietly. “My phone was with me. When did you do this?”  
  
“The other day. I’ve been… wondering for a while. Since you started working at Hertfordshire. That’s when you began being all…” Niko tried to explain, tried to justify, but Eve was not going to be placated now.

“Being all what? Busy with my job?” She suggested sarcastically.

“No… All distant and preoccupied and… We’ve only had sex once since then.” He finished 

Eve was laughing again. This situation was beyond her reasoning abilities after a long day, an uncomfortable evening and a fair bit of wine.

“I’m going to bed.” She uttered instead, clinking together the wine bottle and glass in one hand while she swiped her phone protectively from the counter with the other.  
  
“I’ll sleep in the guest room.” Niko offered, watching as she pocketed her phone.  
  
“Don’t bother.” Eve issued. “I will.”  
  
She left the room without another glance over her shoulder and traipsed up the stairs. She stopped briefly in hers and Niko’s bedroom to retrieve her pyjamas. She noted the soft glow from Leo’s nightlight as she passed the open door to his room, and heard the rustle of movement from within. If Leo was awake then Niko could deal with it. He was the one who shouted.  
  
Eve closed the door to the guest room behind her, relishing the escape that the seclusion brought. She released a shaky breath and poured herself a glass of wine. She should stop really. She had already had enough before dinner had even been over. Smiling and making nice with the Austins had required more than her usual quota of wine though. And the masked looks that Niko had been giving her throughout the evening had only added to the necessity of another drink.  
  
Those looks weren’t so masked anymore. Eve lowered herself onto the bed, sitting against the headboard and stretching her legs in front of her, crossing them at the ankle. She took a swig from her glass and closed her eyes, leaning her head back and listening to Niko’s footsteps coming up the stairs. He went into Leo’s room. She could hear murmured voices. Leo had been awake then. Eve probably should have looked in on him. He only would have wanted Niko though, she reasoned.  
  
Eve’s eyes shot open as she felt something hit the bed beside her. It was Boots. She had leapt nimbly onto the bed and now rubbed her head against Eve’s shoulder, purring loudly. The cat must have been curled up on the armchair in the corner when Eve had appeared in what was usually Boots’ own personal space.  
  
“Hey,” said Eve softly, rubbing under Boots’ chin. “Must be nice to be a cat. No responsibilities, no one to answer to, no one questioning your fidelity…”  
  
Eve must be drunker than she realised.  
  
Boots settled at Eve’s side, pummelling her thigh with her paws, and occasionally claws as Eve stroked her, not sure which one of them she was attempting to soothe with her actions.  
  
  
  
  
She must have fallen asleep. Eve awoke with morning daylight in her eyes and the remnants of a dream lingering in her mind. Her mouth felt fuzzy and she was still in her outfit from the day before, lying atop the duvet on the guest room bed. Next to her was a wine stain and on the floor the glass lay on its side, its burgundy remains crusted within. A scratching noise alerted Eve’s attention and she sat up awkwardly. Her head was a little fuzzy too. Boots was pawing at the closed door.  
  
“You want out, huh?” Eve croaked. “Don’t blame you.”  
  
She got to her feet and let the cat out of the room before closing the door once more and returning to collapse back onto the bed.  
  
She had been dreaming. That much she knew. It was a nice dream too, somehow. A warm and comforting dream. She wracked her brain to retrieve any elements of its quickly fading content. Being held in strong arms and feeling safe. Not Niko’s arms though, they were softer and more… There was soft hair. Blonde and silky to the touch. She could almost feel the strands of it in her fingers and she could hear a deep intake of breath, though not her own. A sigh in her ear and an accompanying puff of air shifting her own hair slightly.  
  
“Eve.”

Eve’s stomach plummeted. That voice. She shouldn’t have been dreaming about that voice. She should barely even have been thinking about it outside of work.  
  
“Eve?” Came a different voice this time, and a quiet knock on the door. Niko.

“Do you want coffee?” He asked.  
  
The previous evening came rushing back into focus and Eve groaned.  
  
“I’ll be right out.” She replied. 

There was no response but Niko’s footsteps vanished down the stairs.  
  


 

 

It took Eve a little while before she was ready to venture downstairs to the kitchen where she could hear the noisy chattering of her son. Children had a way of going from deeply asleep to top volume in a matter of moments and Eve should probably be used to it by now. And yet some mornings, she just wasn’t ready for it. Volume or win consumption _might_ have something to do with that readiness. Evidently Niko wasn’t having the same problem. Eve could hear the low timbre of his answering voice richoteting up the stairs.  
  
Eve showered and brushed her teeth. Partly she was readying herself for the day and, if she admitted it, partly she was simply playing for time. Things between herself and Niko were bound to be less than comfortable this  morning.  
  
By the time she made it to the kitchen, Niko was placing Leo’s freshly prepared lunchbox into his backpack and sending him into the hall to get his school shoes on.  
  
Eve ruffled Leo’s hair on the way past, pretending not to take it to heart as he skirted out of her reach.

“Morning.” Eve offered quietly as she entered the kitchen.

“Coffee’s in the pot.” Came the response.

“Thanks.” Eve muttered, immediately pouring herself a generous cup.

“I—” Eve started, after a steadying gulp of caffeine.

“Later.” Niko interrupted. “I have to get him to school. When I get back, we need to have a… chat.”

“A chat.” Eve repeated. Trust Niko to try and make this sound informal and not terrifying. Just a chat. Perhaps they’ll discuss the weather rather than their imploding marriage.

“OK.” Eve agreed.

“Are you working this morning?” Niko questioned with a raised eyebrow, daring Eve to ditch him for work again.  
  
“I could go in late. I’m just at the office this morning.” Eve replied. “Paperwork.” She added needlessly.

Niko simply nodded. And then called out to Leo.

“Ready Lionman?”

“Yep!” Came the accompanying shriek from the hallway, followed by hasty footsteps.

Leo raced into the room, almost tripping before steadying himself against the counter. Eve shot out a hand to catch him, but he was stable before she managed to intervene.

Niko chuckled.

“Not quite, mate. Good try though.” He said kindly, “Come here.”

Leo took a couple of steps over to Niko who crouched down to re-tie his laces. Untying the messy knot that Leo had created an reforming a proper bow.

“There you go.” Niko let out, standing back to his full height. “Say bye to mum.”  
  
Leo paused momentarily, eyeing Eve somewhat warily before crossing the room and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Bye mum.” He said softly.

“Bye sweetheart,” Eve replied, placing a hand gently on top of Leo’s head. “Have a good day, OK?”

She felt Leo nod against her hip.  
  
  
And then they were both gone and Eve was left alone in the silence of the house, waiting for Niko to return so that… So that what? So that Eve could apologise once again for being late home? So that Niko could attempt to justify snooping around her phone and stealing numbers? This was the second time he had contact one of her colleagues without her permission. It wasn’t OK. It wasn’t how marriages were supposed to work. They were built on trust, right? He was meant to trust her, not root around in her contacts list and interrogate her work friends.

But she hadn’t been honest. She wasn’t sleeping with Bill, or anyone else for that matter, but she wasn’t being honest either. She hadn’t been stuck in traffic the previous evening. She hadn’t even been thinking about leaving for home or about Niko and his very important dinner with very important clients. She was with Oksana. Totally and utterly focused on her work. On her client. She had been enjoying herself far more than she had at dinner. But that didn’t bear analysing at this precise moment. Regardless, she hadn’t been fucking a co-worker. She had been with a client.

The same client she had dreamed about. The client she had divulged too much personal information to. The client she spent more time than was appropriate thinking about. The client that was a self-confessed, cold-blooded killer, without an ounce of guilt.  
  
Jesus. Eve took another steadying swig of coffee. But it didn’t help. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t face Niko right now. What would she even say? This was messy and she wasn’t ready. She needed to get out.

Eve plucked her phone out of her pocket. Clearly she had to keep the device on her at all times these days to avoid any more numbers going walkabout.

She selected a contact and brought the phone to her ear. She listened to the dial tone for a moment before it was answered.

“Hello?” A concerned voice answered  
  
“Are you busy this morning?” Eve let out in a rush, forgoing pleasantries. 

“Not with anything that can’t wait a while. Are you OK?”

“I… yes. I just need to talk to… someone. To you.” Eve replied shakily.

“OK.” Came the immediate response. “You have clearance anyway. Come on over. I’ll stick the kettle on.”

“Thank-you” Eve breathed gratefully. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Eve ended the call on her phone and cast around for some kind of scrap of paper and a pen. She located a pen on the counter and grabbed the back of an envelope to scrawl on. This was probably a bad idea. In fact, it was undoubtedly a bad idea. But Eve was good at those these days and she needed to get out of the house.

She scribbled an apologetic note to Niko, stating that some work emergency had cropped up and that she would be back later. It would be worse later, she knew that. But right now, she didn’t care. And sometimes it was refreshing to stop caring.  
  
She slung back the remainder of her nearly cold coffee and grabbed her car keys, hastily exiting the house before Niko got back from the relatively short school run. He would still be hurt and confused later, but perhaps by then she would be more ready to lay their relationship out on the operating table.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thank-you for the warm response to the last chapter. I was worried that this story would have lost its readers after such a long wait so it was so lovely to find that people were still sticking with it.

It wasn’t until she was halfway to Hertford that Eve realised that she may have made yet another bad decision. These decisions were like some kind of invasive plant. Now that the seeds of one had taken root, they were spreading throughout her life, overtaking the good choices she used to make until her mind was so full of the bad ones that they were blocking out the light.  
  
But, yet again, the choice had been made and it was too late now. Niko would be home already from dropping Leo at school and, having seen Eve’s hastily scrawled and utterly untrue note, he’d probably be more upset than he was before. And Bill was expecting Eve.  
  
Why had she phoned Bill? She could have called Elena. But then she might have divulged more than she wanted to. Elena had a habit of making Eve spill her guts whether she intended to or not. It could have something to do with the fact that they often caught up in a pub. No; mistake or not, it was Bill that Eve needed to see today. She needed someone to confirm the ridiculousness of Niko’s accusation. And who better than Bill? He knew better than anyone that the idea of himself and Eve having an affair was positively laughable.  
  
They had always been buddies before, there had never been any romantic chemistry between them at all. In the early days, when they had worked together, they had formed a kind of alliance against the older, stuffier staff members at the prison where they had met. Eve had been doing a placement while she trained and Bill was a prison guard on his way up the ranks to warden at the time. There had been years of no contact in between, but the two of them had solidified a friendship in those formative stages of their careers.  
  
Eve had pulled up to the bored witless security guard sitting in the booth at the prison car park entrance now, so the chance to change her mind had been left behind on the M25. She lowered the window of her car and leaned out.  
  
“I’m Dr—” She started.  
  
“Yeah, go through.” The security guard grunted, cutting her off before she could even finish her name.  
  
Eve wasn’t sure if he recognised her or just couldn’t be arsed. Given that he barely glanced away from the football game she could hear emanating from his phone screen, she would put her money on the second option.  
  
She parked her car and made her way through the usual rigmarole of entering the internal workings of the large prison. The process was quicker now than when she first visited a couple of months back, and within ten minutes she was knocking on Bill’s office door. She shifted from one foot to the other, aware of the stares she was receiving from the inmates passing through the corridor. Eve was all of a sudden aware that she probably looked as worse for wear as she felt this particular morning. She hadn’t bothered to properly tame her hair after her shower and she had slung on the first outfit to fall out of her wardrobe.  
  
After a moment or two the door before her swung open and Bill’s always welcoming face appeared in front of Eve.  
  
“Dr Polastri,” He said teasingly, “What a pleasant surprise.”  
  
Eve felt an unanticipated wave of relief wash through her at the sight of him.  
  
“Bill,” she breathed, “Hi.”  
  
“Well, come in. I’ve just collected two cups of prison’s finest coffee, every bit as awful as last time.” He promised, standing back and holding the door open.

“Perfect. No better than I deserve.” Eve muttered, stepping into Bill’s office.  
  
“That can’t be right.” Bill said, his face taking on a sympathetic slant. “Have a seat.”  
  
Eve deflated into the proffered chair and Bill made his way to the other side of his desk. He nudged a mug of coffee, emblazoned with the prison’s “Property Of” stamp, towards Eve. She grasped it gratefully in both hands and took a sip.  
  
“Forgive my honesty here, but you don’t look great.” Bill ventured.  
  
Eve laughed.  
  
“Your honesty is exactly why I’m here.” Eve replied.

“Has something happened?” Bill asked warily, “I know Astankova is a handful, but if she’s too much, if she did something, then…”  
  
“Oksana?” Eve looked up suddenly, “No, Oksana’s great.”  
  
Bill raised his eyebrows.

“Fine.” Eve corrected. “Oksana’s fine. This has nothing to do with Oksana.” She rushed out.  
  
Bill chuckled.  
  
“Don’t tell her that. As far as she’s concerned, the universe revolves around Miss Astankova.” He joked.  
  
“Narcissistic Personality Disorder.” Eve responded almost robotically, without thinking.

“Really?” Bill asked, his eyebrows raised again.  
  
“I mean, perhaps.” Eve replied, “She certainly shows some symptoms. Not all of them though…” She trailed off, now thinking her way through the signposts of narcissism.  
  
“Eve.” Bill cut into her thoughts.  
  
Eve looked up at him again.  
  
“You said this had nothing to do with Astankova.” He said. “Is everything alright?”  
  
Eve sighed and looked into the murky depths of her coffee.  
  
“Niko thinks we’re having an affair.” She muttered.  
  
“We, as in you and me?” Bill clarified.  
  
Eve nodded awkwardly.  
  
Bill let loose a hearty laugh.  
  
“That’s a good one!” he chuckled ruefully. “Thank God we’re not talking about Astankova. If you were suspected of an affair with her then that would be a far bigger problem for me.” He added with a shake of his head.  
  
Eve simply stared at him in disbelief and said nothing.  
  
“Right. Yes. Sorry. This is still a pretty big problem.” He agreed, wiping the smile from his face.  
  
“Yeah. It’s not great.” Eve replied.  
  
“No.” Bill shook his head again and then appeared to think, “Is this why he messaged me yesterday?” He realised.

Eve nodded.

“I was late home for this dinner with a couple that commissioned a painting from him. It was important.” Eve explained.  
  
“Why were you late?” Bill asked, “It certainly wasn’t because we were steaming up my office windows.”  
  
“No. My session with Oksana ran over.” Eve reminded him.

“Oh yes. Little shit.” Bill replied, “She didn’t want me anywhere near the room yesterday.” And then he chuckled, “I guess it was to do with Astankova after all. She will be pleased.”  
  
Eve couldn’t help but laugh at that too, picturing the smug look on Oksana’s face were she ever to come to know the chaos she caused.  
  
“And Niko didn’t believe you?” Bill asked curiously.  
  
“No, I…” Eve started, “I told him I got stuck in traffic.”  
  
Bill looked taken aback.  
  
“Why would you tell him that rather than the truth?”  
  
“I… don’t really know.” Eve murmured. “I guess it seemed better than telling him I just forgot?”  
  
Bill let out a slow breath, mulling that over.  
  
“And he assumed it was a lie to cover up an affair between us? That’s a pretty big leap.” He concluded.  
  
“He says I’ve been different since I started working in the same building as you again.” Eve explained uncomfortably.  
  
Bill considered that for a moment.  
  
“OK…” Bill dragged out dubiously. “Different how?” He asked after a pause.  
  
“I’ve been distant, apparently. Preoccupied. We don’t… We don’t have sex much.” Eve confessed uncomfortably, unsure whether that insight was crossing the line of what was appropriate to discuss with a colleague, even if he was also an old friend.

“Since you’ve been working here?” Bill asked in confusion, seemingly unfazed by Eve’s divulgence.

“I think it’s been going on longer than that.” Eve confessed quietly, averting her eyes once more. “But maybe it’s got worse?”  
  
“Ah.” Bill replied. “If it wasn’t barely ten in the morning I would suggest a stiff drink for this conversation, but…” He got up from his chair and crossed the room to a filing cabinet, opening a drawer with a metallic screech.  
  
He plucked something from within the drawer and turned back to Eve.  
  
“For old times’ sake?” He asked, waving an opened pack of cigarettes in his hand with a small smile.  
  
Eve laughed.  
  
“God, it’s been years. Remember those sneaky ones behind the wall in Wormwood?” Eve asked.  
  
Bill nodded with a fond smile.

“I thought you quit too.” Eve said.  
  
“I did. Years ago. Confiscated these.” He explained, tapping a finger against the packet.  
  
“What else do you have in there?” Eve queried with a laugh.  
  
“Um…” Bill rifled through the drawer, “A couple of Snickers bars, a truly filthy porn mag, a freshly carved shiv – that’s a very recent addition.”  
  
Eve laughed again. Bill had always had a way of making her feel better. She had missed him in the intervening years while their paths had ceased to cross.  
  
He turned back to her and smiled.  
  
“Cigarette, a Snickers and a good chat?” He offered kindly.  
  
“Sounds good to me.” Eve agreed.  
  
“And how about this mag? Might give us some inspiration for our sordid affair…” He joked before closing the draw with the same screech as before.  
  
Eve rolled her eyes with a smile as Bill opened the office window as far as its bars would allow and returned to the desk.  
  


Oksana was languishing in her usual state. That is, she was reclined on the top bunk in her cell. She had a book she had only read twice before in her hand, and she was feeling rather proud of herself. The day before she had achieved more than she had set out to. She had kept Pargrave from getting anywhere near Eve, which was her biggest goal for the day. Ideally she would have secured that outcome by driving Renate’s custom blade between his ribs. But so far Renate had still failed to uphold her end of their deal and so Oksana had had to consider other options. Her big for a bit of preparatory independence had work though and Pargrave had stayed out of the room and away from Eve. Oksana was, for now, happy with that.  
  
Besides that, her meeting with Eve had overrun its scheduled end time, meaning more time with Eve, a surprise success for Oksana. _And_ Oksana had even touched Eve. It might not seem like a lot, but since being in prison Oksana had grown accustomed to touches that meant nothing at all beyond serving some greater purpose. Well, that, or violent touches. And yet, she had pretty much held Eve’s hand (praise be to paper cuts), and briefly, when she had helped the other woman into her coat, she had been able to smell that glorious hair. It was every bit as sweet smelling as Oksana had spent hour imagining it would be. Both of those minor instances of contact would warm Oksana’s thoughts throughout the coming nights and days.  
  
Excluding the first time they had met, the day after an appointment with Dr Polastri often found Oksana feeling pretty good about the world. It was the following day that her mood usually returned to its normal precarious position, when she had days to wait until their next interaction and the joy from the last had began to wear off. For today at least, Oksana would enjoy her satisfied state. It was perhaps for that reason that she didn’t immediately roll her eyes as a timid knock sounded on the frame of the open door to her cell.  
  
“Oksana?” Came a quiet voice.

“What?” Oksana barked in return, because it wouldn’t do let people know that she was less vengeful than usual.

“Can I come in?” Was the next tentative advance.  
  
“If you have something to say.” Oksana shrugged  
  
“I do,” came the rapid response.  
  
“Then you can come in.” Oksana drawled, still not bothering to move her head and look at the visitor. She knew who it was.  
  
“Thank-you.” Nadia breathed.

And at that point Oksana could no longer resist rolling her eyes. Only Nadia was as pitifully mild as this. Oksana’s own father would have slapped her if she had ever been so meek.  
  
Oksana heard Nadia shuffle into the cell and could feel her anxious presence hovering near the bunk.

“How are you, Oksana?” Nadia asked politely.

“Great. So?” Oksana replied, less politely.

“Oh, right. Um… Renate is in solitary. Did you know?” Nadia supplied.

“Fuck’s sake.” Oksana groaned under her breath. “I did not know.” Oksana confirmed. “What did she do? And why should I care?”  
  
“I don’t know what she did. I thought you might want to know because… I know that you and she… You know…” Nadia trailed off uncomfortably.

Oksana laughed and finally turned her head to Nadia.  
  
“Fucked?” she suggested.

“I… well, yes.” Nadia answered, looking at her feet rather than Oksana’s amused expression at the edge of the bunk.  
  
“Are you jealous?” Oksana teased mercilessly.  
  
Nadia simply shrugged and rubbed one prison boot against the over before turning her eyes up to look at Oksana, unable to hide hints of both hurt and possibly hope within them.

Oksana pouted mockingly at her and reached out a hand to squeeze Nadia’s cheeks together almost painfully.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it Nadia?” Oksana asked sweetly, and then used her hold on Nadia’s cheeks to force her to nod in response.  
  
“Are you feeling neglected?” Oksana asked in the same tone, and then repeated her previous action to make Nadia nod again.  
  
Oksana chuckled and let go of Nadia’s cheeks, leaving faint finger marks behind.  
  
“Poor baby.” Oksana said.  
  
Nadia rubbed her cheeks distractedly and remained silent.  
  
“Anything else?” Oksana sighed.  
  
“Yes.” Nadia said more resolutely.  
  
“Mmm?” Oksana prompted, now bored of Nadia’s visit. The little mouse evidently had nothing of any actual interest to tell Oksana. She didn’t even know why Renate was in solitary. How was that information of any use to anyone?  
  
“Your doctor is back.” Nadia said proudly.

“No she isn’t.” Oksana yawned. “That was yesterday. Your information is old.”  
  
“No.” Nadia asserted. “I saw her this morning. Going into Pargrave’s office.”  
  
At that, Oksana sat up straight on the bunk, swinging her legs over the side in one fluid movement and colliding the edge of one of her boots into the side of Nadia’s face. Nadia gasped in pain and took a step backwards, clutching her cheekbone and, in a bold move, glaring at Oksana.

“Sorry.” Oksana offered without a morsel of remorse in her tone. “What do you mean you saw her this morning?” she demanded her eyes flashing dangerously.

“About 15 minutes ago. She knocked on Pargrave’s door. He opened it. She went in.” Nadia explained, removing her hand from her face and inspecting it as though looking for blood. There wasn’t any.  
  
“You’re fine.” Oksana said dismissively. “Are you sure it was her?” She pushed.

“Asian woman. Quite big hair.” Nadia nodded. “I’ve met her before remember. I told you that.” She added proudly.  
  
Oksana considered this for a moment, staring down at Nadia from her high vantage point before making her decision and hopping off the edge of the bunk. She landed next to Nadia, her boots hitting the cement floor with a slap.  
  
Oksana planted a gentle kiss on Nadia’s cheek, the one that was reddened from its meeting with Oksana’s boot.  
  
“Thank-you Nadia.” Oksana said tenderly.  
  
“You’re welcome.” Nadia smiled brightly, all pain in her cheek forgotten.  
  
And then Oksana was striding out of the cell door and calling over her shoulder.

“Find out what Fat Renate did this time!”  
  
  
  
  
Oksana made her quickest journey yet along the corridors between her cell and Pargrave’s office. It was a route she had trodden many times over her incarcerated years, but rarely with her head so buzzing with thoughts. What was Eve doing back again? And going, wilfully by the sounds of it, into Pargrave’s office where not long ago he had made inappropriate advances on her. It made no sense at all. Nadia must be mistaken.

Unless Eve was going to warn him off. But she didn’t need to do that. Oksana was going to take care of it, she had a plan already. Oksana would take care of Eve.  
  
Eve didn’t know that though.  
  
Or maybe Eve was going to quit. Maybe she couldn’t work with Pargrave anymore and was going to tell him to find another psychologist for Oksana.  
  
Oksana’s steps sped up once more at that thought. She was garnering looks from fellow inmates but she didn’t notice as they scattered out of her path. One guard took a step towards Oksana as though to question her determined trajectory but then seemed to think better of it. It was quite early in the day for an altercation with Astankova and some guards favoured the easier option of turning a blind eye.  
  
Oksana reached Pargrave’s door and pounded on it with her fist. She waited barely a moment and then repeated the action. For a split second she thought she caught a whiff of her father’s cigar smoke and yet it couldn’t be. Perhaps it was merely a sensory reaction to her channelling the kind of rage that her father had taught her to harness.

“Pargrave!” She called fiercely through the door.  
  
She was about to pound on the wood once more when the door opened and Pargrave’s shocked face appeared.

“Astankova. What on earth—” He began.

“Move!” Oksana spat, and shoved past Pargrave and into the office beyond.  
  
In the chair that Oksana usually occupied on her visits to Pargrave sat Eve.  
  
“Eve! Are you OK?” Oksana asked urgently. “You don’t have to quit.”  
  
And then Oksana took a proper look at the woman before her. Eve looked entirely stunned to see Oksana. Her mouth was open in bewilderment, her hair was more unruly than usual, she barely had any make-up on (though she was never the kind of woman to plaster herself in it in the first place), she looked tired. Her arm was bent at the elbow, her hand halfway to her lips and holding a lit cigarette.  
  
Oksana’s brows furrowed in confusion and for a rare moment she was without anything to say. She looked wide-eyed between the cigarette and Eve, Eve and the open window beyond her, then over her shoulder to Pargrave who was quietly shutting the office door once more. Oksana looked back to Eve who was still yet to speak.

“What the fuck is this?” Oksana demanded.


	22. Chapter 22

Eve slowly exhaled the smoke she had been holding in since Oksana exploded into Bill’s office all crazed and frantic and making Eve jump. Still in some form of shock, Eve let the smoke escape from between her lips in a thin plume while keeping her eyes on the woman in front of her.  
  
“Astankova,” Bill said remarkably calmly, “Since you’ve decided to… join us, why don’t you have a seat?”  
  
He pulled over a spare chair from beside the filing cabinet. A grey, brittle plastic one, the kind which they normally use in group discussions or activities with the inmates. He placed it beside Oksana, who was rooted to the spot next to his desk, visibly seething, her nostrils flaring dangerously. She immediately shoved the chair roughly away, allowing it to hit the floor with a clatter.

“I don’t want a fucking seat, Pargrave!” She raged.  
  
“Oksana!” Eve chastised before she even realised she was about to speak, startled out of her surprise by Oksana’s murderous tone. She had heard Oksana get angry before, but until now she hadn’t felt this boiling anger rolling off the other woman.  
  
Bill, who had stepped away and raised his hands when Oksana had attacked the chair, lifted his eyebrows at Eve. He seemed less alarmed than her. Perhaps Bill had been privy to this version of Oksana before, Eve reasoned.   
  
“Sit down, Astankova.” Bill said more firmly, picking up the chair and placing it once again beside Oksana.   
  
She didn’t shove it away this time, but she also did not sit down, she remained hovering tensely between the room’s two occupants.

“What the fuck is going on? Why is Eve here?” Oksana demanded.  
  
Somewhere in the back of her mind Eve was aware that Oksana’s accent was more Russian than she had ever heard it. Gone were the faint traces of something vaguely other, the over enunciation and odd word choice. This shouting Oksana was very clearly reverting to an earlier, angrier incarnation of her accent. And then her tone switched and Eve struggled to compute its redirection.  
  
“Are you OK, Eve?” Oksana asked, her voice laced with genuine concern.

Bill cleared his throat and tapped the back of the chair he was still offering to Oksana.

“I’m fine.” Eve husked in confusion, finally catching up enough to answer Oksana’s surprising question.  
  
Oksana sat down, dropping herself heavily into the small plastic chair, but still looking questioningly at Eve.  
  
“So why are you here? Why are you with him?” She urged, injecting the final word with venom and shooting a glare at Bill, who merely looked a bit baffled in return as he took his place back at the other side of the desk.   
  
“Well, I… Uh…” Eve started and then stopped.   
  
What was she meant to say? ‘I’m here because my husband thinks I’m fucking Bill because I was late home last night. But actually I was late home because I lost track of time with you, and I would gladly do it again’? No. Obviously not.   
  
Eve took another steadying drag of the cigarette she had momentarily forgotten. She could feel Oksana’s eyes on her, as though examining her for some trace of harm. 

“You do not look OK. You look rough.” Oksana pointed out.   
  
Eve huffed out a laugh at that. She couldn’t help herself.   
  
“Thanks.” She said sarcastically.

“Um, excuse me,” Bill said, waving a hand in front of Oksana’s face. A move that Eve thought was particularly daring.   
  
“ _She_ is here because we are friends and we’re catching up, as friends do. _She_ was an expected visitor.” Bill continued.  
   
Oksana narrowed her eyes at him.   
  
“What are _you_ doing here, Astankova?” He asked purposely.  
  
“Nadia said Eve was here.” Oksana replied coldly.  
  
“Dr Polastri to you.” Bill corrected firmly. “And you think that because she is here, that means you can come barging in shouting and swearing? Why?”  
  
“Can I have one of those?” Oksana asked. She ignored Bill’s question entirely, addressing Eve instead and nodding at the packet of cigarettes still on the desk.

“No.” Said Bill immediately and at exactly the same time that Eve replied, “You’ve never smoked.”   
  
Oksana leant back forcefully in her chair and sighed.   
  
“I don’t want one. You shouldn’t smoke.” She said petulantly. “It’s bad for your skin.”   
  
Eve’s response was to take another inhale on her cigarette. She watched Oksana frown at her.   
  
“Astankova. I still don’t understand why you’re here.” Bill reiterated. 

“Because Nadia told me Eve was here!” Oksana repeated angrily, gesturing at Eve.  
  
“And?” Bill prompted.   
  
Eve shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Something had got Oksana highly worked up, and whatever it was couldn’t be good.   
  
“And I didn’t want her in here with _you_ , did I?” Oksana fired back at Bill as though her answer was obvious.  
  
Eve had known from their appointment the previous day that Oksana was harbouring some strange aversion to Bill at the moment. It had struck her as odd then but she hadn’t given it any further thought. Partly she had forgotten Oksana’s mysterious words the day before and partly she assumed dismissed them as being caused by nothing more than some small disagreement between Oksana and Bill that would probably blow over. Clearly she was wrong. And by the looks of it, Bill was unaware of this supposed rupture between himself and the inmate.  
  
Bill seemed ready to push more questions at Oksana over her statement but Eve intervened.

“Oksana,” she said gently, feeling herself slipping into work mode, “Have you got something against Bill? Oh, uh, Mr Pargrave.”  
  
Oksana eyed Eve thoughtfully for a moment and Eve fought to hold her gaze.  
  
“Don’t you?” Oksana asked at last.

Eve looked taken aback.

“No! Of course, not. Bill is an old friend. We’ve talked about this.” Eve reminded her.   
  
Oksana glowered at Bill across the desk and then returned her eyes to Eve.

“Nadia saw you.” She muttered.

“This morning, yes. You’ve said.” Eve replied, feeling altogether lost.  
  
“No!” Oksana said, her voice rising angrily once more. “Last week. You were upset. She was there, outside the door,” Oksana gestured over her shoulder.  
  
“Last week?” Eve repeated, casting her mind back, “I wasn’t upset last week.” At least not at work, she added internally.

“Yes, you were!” Oksana insisted, “ _He_ upset you. He had to apologise and say he was unprofessional, and then you left in a hurry.”   
  
“What?” Eve asked, entirely bewildered.   
  
A collection of ash dropped from the end of Eve’s cigarette and hit the desk below.

Across the desk, Bill groaned, his head sinking into his hands.

“She’s right,” He sighed, “Remember? We were talking about a certain someone who lacks the ability to knock,” he locked eyes with Oksana, “You thought I was questioning your ability.” He added guiltily to Eve.   
  
“No,” Oksana cut in, “You made her uncomfortable because you’re a fucking pervert.” She spat, eyes blazing again.

“Oksana!” Eve found herself chastising her for the second time. “That is definitely not the—”  
  
Bill had sat up straight in his chair again.

“You thought I had propositioned her?” Bill asked in disbelief. “That’s what you assumed?”  
  
Oksana raised her eyebrows at Bill in a knowing, ‘Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?’ sort of way.

“For the love of God,” Bill let out, exasperated. “Give me those.” He said, reaching for the packet of cigarettes before drawing one out and lighting it.

Eve looked disturbed.

“Oksana, that is absolutely not what happened. Jesus, what were you thinking? And what was the plan? Just never let him walk you to or from appointments ever again?” Eve wondered aloud.  
  
“Yes.” Oksana nodded far too quickly. “That was my plan exactly.” She agreed readily.   
  
Bill considered her sceptically, that plan sounded a little tame for Oksana.   
  
“That’s why you thought she had come to quit?” He queried.

Oksana nodded again.  
  
“So what? You came barrelling in here to protect her?” Bill suggested.  
  
Oksana shrugged.

“How chivalrous.” Bill intoned.   
  
“That’s insane.” Eve breathed, allowing the conversation to marinade whilst taking a final drag from her cigarette that was mostly filter at this point. Most of it had burned away untouched.

“I am not insane!” Oksana barked.   
  
“Pretty sure Eve’s the one who gets to decide that.” Bill muttered, offering Eve a prison mug to use as a makeshift ashtray.    
  
Oksana glared at him fiercely and Eve chuckled despite the absurdity of the situation.   
  
“You’re not insane. But that assumption was insane.” Eve reasoned.  
  
Oksana seemed to relax somewhat at that.   
  
“Why didn’t you just ask me?” Eve asked curiously.

“I didn’t want to upset you.” Oksana shrugged with an oddly remorseful smile.  
  
Bill scoffed and Oksana’s eyes immediately left Eve and alighted on Bill instead.

“But you love upsetting people. And you’re so good at it.” He teased.   
  
“Shut up.” Oksana muttered, scowl back in place.   
  
“Oh come on,” Bill laughed, stubbing out his cigarette in the mug, “You have behaved like a total prat, but can’t we be friends again now you know I’m not some kind of sexual predator who preys on bushy haired psychologists?”

Eve attempted to flatten her hair down slightly. God, she had barely run a brush through it before leaving the house that morning. Oksana was right, she must look rough.  
  
Oksana raised a dubious eyebrow at Bill. She was waiting for some form of proper telling off or punishment. There had to be one on the way, for sure.  
  
“Besides, I have something for you.” Bill carried on, pushing himself backwards on his wheeled office chair and reaching into the drawer of his desk.

“Oh?” Oksana asked intrigued.

“New book.” He said simply, and handed a volume over to Oksana who took it readily and examined its cover.

“ _Moscow To The End of the Line_.” She read aloud, “I do not know it.” she added happily.   
  
“Good, maybe it will keep your mind occupied and away from Nadia’s nonsense gossip for five minutes then.” Bill remarked.   
  
“Thank-you.” Oksana replied, still considering the book in her hands. Then she turned swiftly to Eve, “Do you read Russian literature?” She asked.

“Oh. I… no.” Eve confessed.  
  
“You should. It is very good.” Oksana replied simply. “Much better than any American shit. I can recommend some for you to start with.” She offered.

“Thanks?” Eve replied uncertainly. She couldn’t remember the last novel she read. It was all case files and court reports.   
  
Bill cleared his throat.  
  
“Right.” He said decisively, “Well, if you’re satisfied that I’m not about to corner the good doctor…” he made eye contact with Oksana and then shifted his gaze intentionally to the door behind her.   
  
“Can I stay?” she asked hopefully.

“No.” Bill replied.

Oksana turned to Eve, her expression expectant.

“I will see you at our next appointment.” Eve stated firmly.  
  
Oksana looked for a moment as though she was going to argue and then seemed to change her mind. She nodded once and stood up.

“Astankova,” Bill said before Oksana had a chance to move any further, “Your behaviour this morning, do you have anything to say about it?”

Oksana tensed, her body becoming rigid. Eve readied herself for another outburst.

“It was Nadia’s fault. She shouldn’t have told me lies.” Oksana asserted. 

“I’m not asking about Nadia’s behaviour.” Bill rebuked.

“Well, she is a liar.” Oksana maintained.

Bill raised his eyebrows.

“But,” Oksana began, and then turned to Eve, “I am sorry for bursting in and scaring you.” She said meaningfully.

“I mean, you didn’t _scare_ me,” Eve mumbled uselessly before trailing off. 

“Thank-you Astankova. Off you go now.” Bill said pointedly.

“Bye Eve,” Oksana said before heading to the door, her book still clutched protectively in her hand.

“See you next week.” Eve nodded with a vague wave of her hand.  
  
“Please try to stay out of trouble!” Bill called just before the door closed behind Oksana.   
  
There was silence for a moment after Oksana had left before Bill spoke.

“Are we giving off some kind of vibe or something?” He asked jokingly.  
  
Eve deflated with a humourless chuckle that became a groan.

“I have no idea. But that was insane.” She decided.

“Completely fucking nuts.” Bill agreed.  
  
“You’re the most non-threatening man I know.” Eve said with a fond smile.

“I know that’s supposed to be a good thing, but I can’t help but feel slightly wounded by it. Besides, it’s not what your husband thinks.” Bill replied twitching his eyebrows and grinning at Eve.  
  
“Oh God, you don’t need to remind me. At least he thinks it’s consensual. Or… is that better? I don’t even know.” Eve trailed off.  
  
Bill hummed thoughtfully and a silence stretched between them.

“She clearly has a soft spot for you.” He said after a moment.

“What?” Eve asked, suddenly feeling on edge once more.  
  
“Astankova. She cares about you. To get that angry… Usually it only happens if someone brings up her father. One inmate ended up with a broken nose after doing that.” Bill stated. “I suppose I should be grateful she’s less… violent these days.” He mused, rubbing his nose absently.

“Wait.” Eve snapped, holding up a hand, “That _was_ why Oksana broke that woman’s nose? Because she mentioned her father?” Eve demanded.  
  
“Yeah, she called him a coward who had to get others to do his dirty work because—” Bill started to explain.  
  
“That little liar!” Eve interrupted. “She just wanted to win her stupid game.” She exclaimed, more to herself than Bill.

“What game?” Bill queried, clearly not following Eve’s thought process.

“Doesn’t matter.” Eve replied, still shaking her head, partly annoyed, partly impressed at the audacity of Oksana Astankova.  
  
“Right.” Bill dragged out the word, “Anyway, Eve, I know I’ve told you before but I want to tell you again: be careful. She’s obviously got quite attached to you and I am in no way saying that you’re unable to do your—”  
  
“Bill, you don’t have to worry.” Eve interrupted, “She just enjoys having someone’s undivided attention every week.” Eve promised and as she did so, she heard Oksana’s own voice in her head, _You’re my favourite too. Just… my favourite._  
  
Eve shook her head to rid herself of that little voice. 

“She’s a narcissist. She thrives on attention.” Eve assured, no longer sure who she was trying to convince. 

Bill, for one, didn’t look convinced by that and Eve couldn’t blame him, but fortunately he didn’t push any further.

“Anyway,” Eve began decisively, “What am I going to do about Niko?”   
  
Bill took the bait and followed Eve’s change in conversational direction.

“I have an idea actually.” He said with a smile.   
  
“I’m listening…” Eve prompted cautiously.

“You, me, dinner… With Niko.” Bill suggested. “We’ll just show him how entirely, completely and utterly platonic we are. What do you say… mate?” he finished with a wink.   
  
  
  
  


Oksana’s return journey to her cell was far more subdued than her fury fuelled trip to Pargrave’s office. Now she felt empty of that original anger, now she felt something entirely less productive. She felt embarrassed. She had made herself look ridiculous in front of Eve. Kind, thoughtful, Eve who hadn’t demanded answers from her like Pargrave had. Oksana probably would have been dealt more of a lecture on the evils of listening to gossip and jumping to conclusions if Eve hadn’t been there too.   
  
Oksana had barged in like a lunatic. In front of a psychologist. She didn’t want Eve to see her like that. Not anymore. She wanted Eve to see her as an equal, someone who doesn’t partake in playground games or throw tantrums over nothing.   
  
Oksana cringed inwardly. Eve had just been visiting Pargrave as a friend. The reason for Eve’s visit still didn’t seem quite clear to Oksana. Why would Eve need to go and see Bill for no reason other than the fact that they’re friends? It made no sense. But, Oksana supposed, Eve had been right with one of her guesses in their game the day before; Oksana had never had close friends. Perhaps she simply couldn’t relate.

Then again, Eve hadn’t looked herself. Oksana hadn’t been lying when she told Eve she looked rough. Oksana rolled her eyes in frustration at herself. She shouldn’t have said that. Even if it was true. If Pargrave hadn’t been there then Oksana would have told Eve that she looked tired, but still beautiful. Not rough. Rough wasn’t… kind. Oksana knew that.

It took Oksana the length of a corridor to come to her senses. This wasn’t her fault. She had done the right thing. She had been trying to protect Eve from supposed harm. She hadn’t simply invented the threat. No, she had been told of it. Nadia had come to Oksana specifically to tell her than Pargrave had been inappropriate and Eve had been upset. Nadia said that. Eve had been upset. She had left in a hurry. Oksana wasn’t the one jumping to _insane_ assumptions. Nadia was. This was all Nadia’s fault. Stupid, weak, Nadia with nothing to do but come to Oksana with tip-offs and tales in the hope of gaining just a scrap of affection from her.  
  
Oksana scoffed to herself and an inmate who had been walking towards her stepped swiftly over to the side. Nadia was pathetic and she had made Oksana look bad in front of Eve. Well, that wouldn’t do.  
  
Part of Oksana was glad to no longer have the burden of having to deal with Pargrave. She had liked him after all; it really would have been a shame to have to kill him. And, really, Oksana took no joy in things like that. Well, at least, she probably wouldn’t find any joy in killing someone she once liked… Maybe. Oksana considered that for a moment and could draw no conclusion on the matter. Regardless, Pargrave was safe from Oksana’s wrath, be it joyful or not. Nadia, however, was an irritating mosquito that had buzzed in Oksana’s ear one too many times. And the thing about mosquitos, is that eventually they tend to get swatted.


End file.
